"What will you eat first, Alfred, my love? A wing of a chicken?"

"No," said Alfred, pushing it away.

"A slice of ham, darling?" said nurse.

"No," said Alfred, in a louder tone.

"A little bit of lobster, my dear?"

"No, no," replied the naughty boy.

"Well, what _will_ you have, then?" said his mother, who was almost
tired of him.

"I will have oyster patties," said he.

"That is the only thing you cannot have, my love, you know, so do not
think of it any more, but taste a bit of this pie. I am sure you will
like it."

"You _said_ I should have oyster patties by dinner-time," said Alfred,
"and so I will have nothing else."

"I am sorry you are such a sad, naughty child," said his mother. "I
thought you would have been so pleased with all these nice things to
eat."

"They are _not_ nice," said the child, who was not at all grateful for
all that his mother had done, but was now in such a passion that he
took the piece of currant tart which his nurse again offered to him,
and, squeezing, up as much as his two little hands could hold, he
threw it at his nurse, and stained her nice white handkerchief and
apron with the red juice.

Just at this moment his father came into the garden, and walked up to
the table.

"What is all his?" said he. "Alfred, you seem to be a very naughty boy
indeed; and I must tell you, sir, I shall allow this no longer. Get
down from your chair, sir, and beg your nurse's pardon."

Alfred had hardly ever heard his father speak so before, and he felt
so frightened that he left off crying and did as he was bid. Then his
father took him by the hand and led him away.

His mother said she was sure he would now be good and eat the currant
tart; but his father said:

"No, no, it is now too late; he must come with me."

So he led him away, without saying another word.

He took him into the village, and he stopped at the door, of a poor
cottage.

"May we come in?" said his father.

"Oh yes, and welcome," said a poor woman, who was standing at a table
with a saucepan in her hand.

"What are you doing, my good woman?"

"Only putting out the children's supper, your honor."

"And what have you got for their supper?"

"Only some potatoes, please you, sir; but they be nicely boiled, and
here come the hungry boys! They are coming in from their work, and
they will soon make an end of them, I warrant."

As she said these words in came John, and William, and Thomas, all
with rosy c