"Come and have your breakfast, lad," said his father.
"No thank you, dad," replied the boy.
"And why not?"
"You heard what she said to me last night, dad, didn't you? After that and what I answered her, I ain't goin' to eat nothin' more of her providin'."
And Tad's face burned at the remembrance of the insulting words that had brought him to this resolution. His heart was hot within him as with a smouldering fire, while he said to himself, "Ah well—my turn's comin'."
"Don't be such a fool, Tad," said his father; "here, take your tea, and I'll cut you some bread and butter."
Tad was just longing for some food. He had not eaten a mouthful since an early tea in Mr. Scales' little back parlour the day before. But it was not for nothing that Mrs. Poole had often called him "the most obstinatious little beast of a boy" she'd ever seen. And since he had made up his mind not to eat again at his father's table, he stuck to his resolution, rash and foolish as it was.
"No, dad, no," he said. "I'll make shift to get a bite somewheres or other later on, but I ain't goin' to unsay what I said last night—not for no one."
"You forget it's Sunday, lad, you can't buy any food," said James Poole; "and besides, though you may be able to starve for a day, you can't keep on doin' of it, so that sooner or later you're bound to break your resolution. Now don't be an obstinate mule, but eat your breakfast, or you'll be makin' yourself ill."
"I don't care," said Tad, feeling very wretched in mind and body.