But he had another teacher.
Down the street of the village, which was very straggling, with nearly as many little gardens as houses in it, there was a house occupied by several poor people, in one end of which, consisting just of a room and a closet, an old woman lived who got her money by spinning flax into yarn for making linen.

She was a kind-hearted old creature--widow, without any relation near to help her or look after her.

She had had one child, who died before he was as old as Willie.

That was forty years before, but she had never forgotten her little Willie, for that was his name too, and she fancied our Willie was like him.

Nothing, therefore, pleased her better than to get him into her little room, and talk to him.