eemed
quite unreasonable, selfish, and dog-in-the-manger-ish of the young man
behind the counter to stand there, and neither eat it himself, nor let
anyone else touch it.

"Yes, it's very jolly stuff," replied the first small boy, regarding his
questioner sternly. "I know you'd like some, wouldn't you? Go in now
an' buy two pen'orth, and I'll buy the half from you w'en you come out."

"_Walker_!" replied the boy in the long coat.

"Just so; and I'd advise you to become a walker too," retorted the
other; "run away now, your master's bin askin' after you for half an
hour, _I_ know, and more."

Without waiting for a reply, the small boy (our small boy) swaggered
away whistling louder than ever.

Passing along Holborn, he continued his way into Oxford Street, where
the print-shop windows proved irresistibly attractive. They seemed also
to have the effect of stimulating his intellectual and conceptive
faculties, insomuch that he struck out several new, and, to himself,
highly entertaining pieces of pleasantry, one of which consisted of
asking a taciturn cabman, in the meekest of voices:

"Please, sir, you couldn't tell me wot's o'clock, could you?"

The cabman observed a twinkle in the boy's eye; saw through him; in a
metaphorical sense, and treated him with silent contempt.

"Oh, I beg pardon, sir," continued the small boy, in the same meek tone,
as he turned to move humbly away; "I forgot to remember that cabbies
don't carry no watches, no, nor _change_ neither, they're much too wide
awake for that!"

A sudden motion of the taciturn cabman caused the small boy to dart
suddenly to the other side of the crowded street, where he resumed his
easy independent air, and his interrupted tune.

"Can you direct me to Nottin' Hill Gate, missus?" he inquired of an
applewoman, on reaching the neighbourhood of Tottenham Court Road.

"Straight on as you go, boy," answered the woman, who was busying
herself about her stall.

"Very good indeed," said the small boy, with a patronising air; "quite
correctly answered. You've learnt geography, I see."

"What say?" inquired the woman, who was apparently a little deaf.

"I was askin' the price o' your oranges, missus."

"One penny apiece," said the woman, taking up one.

"They ain't biled to make 'em puff out, are they?"

To this the woman vouchsafed no reply.

"Come, missus, don't be cross; wot's the price o' yer apples now?"

"D'you want one?" asked the woman testily