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Roundabout Papers by William Makepeace Thackeray
page 68 of 372 (18%)

But then would my parents wish their only child to be actually without
breakfast? Having this money, and being so hungry, so VERY hungry,
mightn't I take ever so little? Mightn't I at home eat as much as I
chose?

Well, I went into the coffee-shop, and spent fourpence. I remember
the taste of the coffee and toast to this day--a peculiar, muddy,
not-sweet-enough, most fragrant coffee--a rich, rancid, yet
not-buttered-enough delicious toast. The waiter had nothing. At any
rate, fourpence I know was the sum I spent. And the hunger appeased, I
got on the coach a guilty being.

At the last stage,--what is its name? I have forgotten in
seven-and-thirty years,--there is an inn with a little green and
trees before it; and by the trees there is an open carriage. It is our
carriage. Yes, there are Prince and Blucher, the horses; and my parents
in the carriage. Oh! how I had been counting the days until this one
came! Oh! how happy had I been to see them yesterday! But there was that
fourpence. All the journey down the toast had choked me, and the coffee
poisoned me.

I was in such a state of remorse about the fourpence, that I forgot the
maternal joy and caresses, the tender paternal voice. I pull out the
twenty-four shillings and eightpence with a trembling hand.

"Here's your money," I gasp out, "which Mr. P---- owes you, all but
fourpence. I owed three-and-sixpence to Hawker out of my money for a
pencil-case, and I had none left, and I took fourpence of yours, and had
some coffee at a shop."
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