but wrong to make free
slily with that which he was merely entrusted to serve out. However, it
rushed so fast into his mouth, and was so hot, that he was afraid of
being strangled. It happened that he had bitten his cheek that morning,
and the liquor bathing the sore place made it smart so that he put down
the bottle on the floor, when, in stamping about, it rolled downstairs
and made a fine clatter. His father ran out on hearing the noise, but
was stopped in the way by seeing the young lady almost gasping for
breath, and it was some minutes before she could say that he had given
her brandy instead of wine.

Mr. Random next proceeded upstairs, where little Dick was picking up the
pieces of broken glass, in doing which he cut a deep gash in his hand.

'Where did you take the bottle from?'

'Out of the _farther_ side of the cellaret,' said Dicky.

'I told you to take it from the _hither_ side,' replied Mr. Random.
'But, however, you shall smart for your neglect: what remains of the
brandy will serve to bathe your hand, and I hope the pain will make you
reflect that the loss is the same to me, whether you spilt it from
design or inattention.'

He one day made his mother look very simple at table, for which he
deserved to have suffered much more than her good nature required. Young
Random was to have a grand rout in the evening with some of his little
favourites. A few nice tarts, custards, etc., had been made in the
morning for the occasion, and had been most temptingly baked in the
forenoon.

It happened that two gentlemen called on Mr. Random about two o'clock,
and he insisted upon their staying to dinner; in consequence of which
his lady had the pastry removed from the sideboard to the china-closet.

All children must frequently have heard their mothers say, when they
wish to have anything saved for another occasion, 'My friends, you see
your dinner before you; I hope you will consider yourselves at home and
not spare.' This is always thought to be a sufficient excuse for not
bringing anything of another sort to table.

When the meat was nearly done with, Mrs. Random made the above remark
to her visitors, who declared that nothing more was requisite. She then
bid the servant put the cheese on the table.

'What, mother,' said Richard, 'is there nothing else?'

'No, my love,' said his mother; 'I am sure you want nothing more.'

'Why, yes, mother. Where are the tarts and custards you put into the
closet?'