The next day, as usual, Jem jumped up before six o’clock and went to his work, whilst Lazy Lawrence sauntered about without knowing what to do with himself. In the course of two days he laid out sixpence of his money in apples and gingerbread; and as long as these lasted, he found himself well received by his companions; but, at length the third day he spent his last halfpenny, and when it was gone, unfortunately some nuts tempted him very much, but he had no money to pay for them; so he ran home to coax his father, as he called it.
When he got home he heard his father talking very loud, and at first he thought he was drunk; but when he opened the kitchen door, he saw that he was not drunk, but angry.
“You lazy dog!” cried he, turning suddenly upon Lawrence, and gave him such a violent box on the ear as made the light flash from his eyes; “you lazy dog! See what you’ve done for me—look!—look, look, I say!”
Lawrence looked as soon as he came to the use of his senses, and with fear, amazement and remorse, beheld at least a dozen bottles burst, and the fine Worcestershire cider streaming over the floor.
“Now, did not I order you three days ago to carry these bottles to the cellar, and did not I charge you to wire the corks? answer me, you lazy rascal; did not I?”
“Yes,” said Lawrence, scratching his head.
“And why was not it done, I ask you?” cried his father, with renewed anger, as another bottle burst at the moment. “What do you stand there for, you lazy brat? why don’t you move, I say? No, no,” catching hold of him, “I believe you can’t move; but I’ll make you.” And he shook him till Lawrence was so giddy he could not stand. “What had you to think of? What had you to do all day long that you could not carry my cider, my Worcestershire cider, to the cellar when I bid you? But go, you’ll never be good for anything; you are such a lazy rascal—get out of my sight!” So saying, he pushed him out of the house door, and Lawrence sneaked off, seeing that this was no time to make his petition for halfpence.
The next day he saw the nuts again, and wishing for them more than ever, he went home, in hopes that his father, as he said to himself, would be in a better humour. But the cider was still fresh in his recollection; and the moment Lawrence began to whisper the word “halfpenny” in his ear, his father swore, with a loud oath, “I will not give you a halfpenny, no, not a farthing, for a month to come. If you want money, go work for it; I’ve had enough of your laziness—go work!”
At these terrible words Lawrence burst into tears, and, going to the side of a ditch, sat down and cried for an hour; and when he had cried till he could cry no more, he exerted himself so far as to empty his pockets, to see whether there might not happen to be one halfpenny left; and, to his great joy, in the farthest corner of his pocket one halfpenny was found. With this he proceeded to the fruit woman’s stall. She was busy weighing out some plums, so he was obliged to wait; and whilst he was waiting he heard some people near him talking and laughing very loud.
The fruit woman’s stall was at the gate of an inn yard; and peeping through the gate in this yard, Lawrence saw a postilion and a stable boy, about his own size, playing at pitch farthing. He stood by watching them for a few minutes. “I began but with one halfpenny,” cried the stable boy, with an oath, “and now I’ve got twopence!” added he, jingling the halfpence in his waistcoat pocket. Lawrence was moved at the sound, and said to himself, “If I begin with one halfpenny I may end, like him, with having twopence; and it is easier to play at pitch farthing than to work.”