Mr. Millar's dog was sitting on the flags before the door; and he looked up, with a wistful, begging eye, at Hal, who was eating a queen-cake.
Hal, who was wasteful even in his good nature, threw a whole queen-cake to the dog, who swallowed it for a single mouthful.
"There go two-pence in the form of a queen-cake," said Mr. Gresham.
Hal next offered some of his cakes to his uncle and cousin; but they thanked him, and refused to eat any, because, they said, they were not hungry; so he ate and ate, as he walked along, till at last he stopped, and said, "This bun tastes so bad after the queen-cakes, I can't bear it!" and he was going to fling it from him into the river.
"Oh, it is a pity to waste that good bun; we may be glad of it yet," said Ben; "give it to me, rather than throw it away."
"Why, I thought you said you were not hungry," said Hal.
"True, I am not hungry now; but that is no reason why I should never be hungry again."
"Well, there is the cake for you; take it, for it has made me sick; and I don't care what becomes of it."
Ben folded the refuse bit of his cousin's bun in a piece of paper, and put it into his pocket.
"I'm beginning to be exceedingly tired, or sick, or something," said Hal, "and as there is a stand of coaches somewhere hereabouts, had we not better take a coach, instead of walking all the way to Bristol?"