'At the pastrycook's stall,' answered Geoffrey; 'and I must go back again before I can buy any thing. I left my five shillings there to be changed.'
The boys returned together to the stall, and I saw its mistress hand a small coin to Geoffrey.
'Where is the rest?' said he.
'That is your change, sir,' she replied.
'Why, you don't mean that those two or three tarts and jellies cost four and sixpence!' he exclaimed, turning as red as the rosiest doll at my side.
'I think you will find it correct, sir,' answered the shopkeeper. 'Two jellies, sixpence each, make one shilling; two custards, sixpence each, two shillings; a bottle of ginger-beer, threepence, two and threepence; one raspberry cream, sixpence, two and ninepence; three gooseberry tarts, threepence, three shillings; two strawberry tarts, three and twopence; two raspberry ditto, three and fourpence; four cheesecakes, three and eightpence; two Bath buns, four shillings; and one lemon ice, four and sixpence.'
'What a bother!' said Geoffrey, as he pocketed the small remains of his fortune. 'I wish I could give her some of the tarts back again, for they weren't half so nice as they looked, except just the first one or two.'
'Because you were only hungry for the first one or two,' said the other boy. 'But it can't be helped now; come and spend the sixpence better.'
'There won't be any thing worth buying for sixpence,' said Geoffrey gloomily, as he shuffled in a lazy manner towards my stall.