On the morrow, the ship was advertised to sail. So the rest of that day
I spent in preparations. After in vain trying to sell my fowling-piece
for a fair price to chance customers, I was walking up Chatham-street
with it, when a curly-headed little man with a dark oily face, and a
hooked nose, like the pictures of Judas Iscariot, called to me from a
strange-looking shop, with three gilded balk hanging over it.

With a peculiar accent, as if he had been over-eating himself with
Indian-pudding or some other plushy compound, this curly-headed little
man very civilly invited me into his shop; and making a polite bow, and
bidding me many unnecessary good mornings, and remarking upon the fine
weather, begged t me to let him look at my fowling-piece. I handed it to
him in an instant, glad of the chance of disposing of it, and told him
that was just what I wanted.

"Ah!" said he, with his Indian-pudding accent again, which I will not
try to mimic, and abating his look of eagerness, "I thought it was a
better article, it's very old."

"Not," said I, starting in surprise, "it's not been used more than three
times; what will you give for it?"

"We don't buy any thing here," said he, suddenly looking very
indifferent, "this is a place where people pawn things." Pawn being a
word I had never heard before, I asked him what it meant; when he
replied, that when people wanted any money, they came to him with their
fowling-pieces, and got one third its value, and then left the
fowling-piece there, until they were able to pay back the money.

What a benevolent little old man, this must be, thought I, and how very