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