men, whatever she may have been with the women. Dr. Tadpole had courted
her ever since she had settled at Greenwich: they were the best of
friends, but the doctor's suit did not appear to advance. Nevertheless,
the doctor seldom passed a day without paying her a visit, and she was
very gracious to him. Although she sold every variety of tobacco, she
would not permit people to smoke, and had no seats either in the shop or
at the door--but to this rule an exception was made in favor of the
doctor. He seldom failed to be there every evening; and, although she
would not allow him a chair, she permitted him to remain standing at the
counter and smoke his cigar while they conversed. It was this indulgence
which occasioned people to think that she would marry the doctor; but at
last they got tired of waiting, and it became a sort of proverb in
Fisher's Alley and its precincts, when things were put off to an
indefinite period, to say, "Yes, that will be done when the widow
marries the doctor."

One evening, Ben had sent me to fill his tobacco-box at Mrs. St.
Felix's, and when I went in, I found the doctor in her shop.

"Well, Master Tom Saunders or Mr. Poor Jack," said the widow, "what may
your pleasure be?"

"Pigtail," said I, putting down the penny.

"Is it for your father, Jack, for report tells me that he's in want of
it?"

"No," replied I, "it's for old Ben--father's a long way from this, I
expect."