o of liberty than
to distinguish any particular shop with my preference: all were equally
beautiful; so were the carriages; so were the people. Ladies frequently
turned to look at me, perhaps because I had no covering on my head; but
they did not interest me in the least. I should have been willing to ask
them or any one where the Peerage lived, only my mind was quite full,
and I did not care. I felt sure that a great deal of walking would
ultimately bring me to St. Paul's or Westminster Abbey; to anything else
I was indifferent.

Toward sunset my frame was struck as with an arrow by the sensations
of hunger on passing a cook's-shop. I faltered along, hoping to reach a
second one, without knowing why I had dragged my limbs from the first.
There was a boy in ragged breeches, no taller than myself, standing
tiptoe by the window of a very large and brilliant pastry-cook's.
He persuaded me to go into the shop and ask for a cake. I thought it
perfectly natural to do so, being hungry; but when I reached the counter
and felt the size of the shop, I was abashed, and had to repeat the
nature of my petition twice to the young woman presiding there.

'Give you a cake, little boy?' she said. 'We don't give cakes, we sell
them.'

'Because I am hungry,' said I, pursuing my request.

Another young woman came, laughing and shaking lots of ringlets.

'Don't you see he's not a common boy? he doesn't whine,' she remarked,
and handed me a stale bun, saying, 'Here, Master Charles, and you
needn't say thank you.'

'My name is Harry Richmond, and I thank you very much,' I replied.

I heard her say, as I went out, 'You can see he's a gentleman's son.'
The ragged boy was awaiting me eagerly. 'Gemini! you're a lucky one,' he
cried; 'here, come along, curly-poll.' I believe that I meant to share
the bun with him, but of course he could not be aware of my beneficent
intentions: so he treated me as he thought I was for treating him, and
making one snatch at the bun, ran off cramming it into his mouth. I
stood looking at any hand. I learnt in that instant what thieving was,
and begging, and hunger, for I would have perished rather than have
asked for another cake, and as I yearned for it in absolute want of
food, the boy's ungenerous treatment of me came down in a cloud on my
reason. I found myself being led through the crush of people, by an old
gentleman, to whom I must have related an extraordinary rigmarole. He
shook his head, saying tha