At the very moment Hal stepped into the pastrycook's shop a poor, industrious man with a wooden leg, who usually sweeps the dirty corner of the walk which turns at this spot to the Wells, held his hat to Ben, who, after glancing his eye at the petitioner's well-worn broom, instantly produced his twopence.
'I wish I had more halfpence for you, my good man,' said he; 'but I've only twopence.'
Hal came out of Mr. Millar's, the confectioner's shop, with a hatful of cakes in his hand. 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 at a single mouthful.
'There goes twopence 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 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.'