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 that I was unintelligible; but the questions he put to me,
'Why had I no hat on in the open street?--Where did my mother live?--
What was I doing out alone in London?' were so many incitements to
autobiographical composition to an infant mind, and I tumbled out my
history afresh each time that he spoke. He led me into a square,
stooping his head to listen all the while; but when I perceived that we
had quitted the region of shops I made myself quite intelligible by
stopping short and crying: 'I am so hungry.' He nodded and said, 'It 's
no use cross-examining an empty stomach. You'll do me the favour to dine
with me, my little man. We'll talk over your affairs by-and-by.'

My alarm at having left the savoury street of shops was not soothed until
I found myself sitting at table with him, and a nice young lady, and an
old one who wore a cap, and made loud remarks on my garments and
everything I did. I was introduced to them as the little boy dropped
from the sky. The old gentleman would not allow me to be questioned
before I had eaten. It was a memorable feast. I had soup, fish, meat,
and pastry, and, for the first time in my life, a glass of wine. How
they laughed to see me blink and cough after I had swallowed half the
glass like water. At once my tongue was unloosed. I seemed to rise