“Well, old Nanny, what’s the matter now?” said Dr. Tadpole.

“Nothing, doctor, nothing; you’ve come on a useless message; I didn’t send for you, recollect that; it was Jack who would go; I did not send, recollect that, doctor; I can’t afford it; I’ve no money.”

“Very well, I shan’t look to you for money.  Put out your tongue,” replied the doctor, as he felt her pulse.

“Recollect, doctor, I did not send for you.  Jack, you are witness—­I’ve no money,” repeated old Nanny.

“Put out your tongue,” repeated the doctor.

“No, I won’t, till it’s all clearly settled.”

“It is, you old fool,” said the doctor, impatiently; “put out your tongue.”

“Jack, you’re witness it’s all by force,” said Nanny, who at last put out her tongue; “and now, doctor, I’ll tell you.”

Whereupon Nanny commenced with a narrative of her ills; and by her own account there was not a portion of her body from top to toe which had not some ailment.

“You’ve a very bad complaint,” said the doctor; “what d’ye think it is?  It’s old age.  I hardly know whether I can cure it.”

“Can your draw the pain out of my old bones?” said Nanny, groaning.

“Why, I’ll try, at all events.  I must send you something to take inwardly.”

“Who’s to pay for it?” said old Nanny.

“I will, mother,” said I.

“You’re witness, doctor—­Jack says he’ll pay for it.  You’re a good boy, Jack.”

“Well, that’s settled—­but now, we must have some one to sit up with you.”

“Sit up with me? nobody will sit up with an old thing like me.”

“Yes, I will, mother,” said I, “and I’ll look in upon you in the daytime, and see if you want to drink.”

“No, no, Jack! then you’ll make no money.”

“Yes I will—­never mind that.”

“Well, at all events,” replied the doctor, “Jack will sit up with you this night; and we’ll see how you are to-morrow.  Now, Jack, come back with me, and I’ll give you something for her.  Good-night, Nanny,” said the doctor, leaving the room.

“Good-night,” grumbled old Nanny; and as we were going through the shop I heard her continue:  “It’s very easy saying ‘good-night,’ but how can a poor wretch like me, with every bone aching as if it would split, expect to have a ’good night’?”

As the doctor walked home, he appeared not to be in his usual talkative mood.  He went to the shop, made up the medicines, and gave me the directions.

“Here, Jack, take these; and it will be a kindness to sit up with her to-night.  I will see her to-morrow; and as I can’t allow you to be the only good Samaritan in the place, understand, Jack, that I attend the poor old woman and find medicine for nothing.”

I thanked him and hastened back.  Old Nanny took her draught, and then turned round on her side.  I suppose there was opium in it, for she soon fell fast asleep; not, however, until she had said, “Jack, have you locked the door?”