CHAPTER NINE

In which I take a Cruise contrary to the received Rules of
Navigation--On my Return from a cold Expedition, I meet with a cold
Reception.


As soon as I was fairly in possession of my office, I gained sufficient
money to render me almost entirely independent of my mother.
Occasionally I procured an old jacket or trousers, or a pair of shoes,
at the store of an old woman who dealt in everything that could be
imagined; and, if ever I picked up oakum or drifting pieces of wood, I
used to sell them to old Nanny--for that was the only name she was known
by. My mother, having lost her lodgers by her ill temper and continual
quarreling with her neighbors, had resorted to washing and getting up of
fine linen, at which she was very expert, and earned a good deal of
money. To do her justice, she was a very industrious woman, and, in some
things, very clever. She was a very good dressmaker, and used to make up
the gowns and bonnets for the lower classes of people, to whom she gave
great satisfaction. She worked very hard for herself and my sister,
about whose dress and appearance she was more particular than ever;
indeed, she showed as much affection for her as she did ill-will toward
me. To look at me, with my old trousers tucked up above my knees, my
ragged jacket, and weatherbeaten cap; and then to see Virginia, so
neatly and even expensively dressed, no one could have believed that we
were brother and sister. My mother would always try to prevent Virginia