Jim Nelson told me the other day that that fellow in town as has his shop full of polished brass, all the world like the quarter-deck of the _Le Amphitrite_, when that sucking Honourable (what was his name ?) commanded her--Jim said to me, as how he charged him one-and-sixpence for a new piece of flint for his starboard eye.

Now you know that old Wilkins never axed no more than threepence.

Now, how we're to pay at that rate comes to more than my knowledge.

Jim hadn't the dirt, although he had brought his threepence; so his blinkers are left there in limbo." "We must find out another man; the shop's to let, and all handy.

Suppose we speak to the governor ?" "No use to speak to the governor; he don't use blinkers; and so won't have no fellow-feeling." Newton entered into conversation, and found that an old man, who gained his livelihood in a small shop close to the gate, by repairing the spectacles of the pensioners, had lately died, and that his loss was severely felt by them, as the opticians in town did not work at so reasonable a rate.