quickly
after moldy; nay, the very maggots got into it, and by that means had
their share; on which account it was not then worth eating, and our
young curmudgeon was compelled to fling the rest away with great
reluctance. However, no one grieved for him."

_Percival_. No, indeed; nor I, father. What, keep a cake locked up
seven days together, and not give one's friends a bit! That is
monstrous! But let us have the other now.

"There was another little gentleman who went to school with Henry and
Francis likewise, and his name was Gratian. His mother sent him a cake
one day, because she loved him, and, indeed, he loved her also very
much. It was no sooner come than Gratian thus addressed his young
companions: 'Come and look at what mother has sent me; you must every
one eat with me.' They scarcely needed such a welcome piece of
information twice, but all got round the cake, as you have doubtless
seen the bees resorting to a flower just blown. As Gratian was
provided with a knife, he cut a great piece off, and then divided it
into as many shares as he had brought boys together by such a
courteous invitation. Gratian then took up the rest, and told them
that he would eat his piece next day; on which he put it up, and went
to play with his companions, who were all solicitous to have him
choose whatever game he thought might entertain him most.

"A quarter of an hour had scarcely passed as they were playing, when a
poor old man, who had a fiddle, came into the yard.

"He had a very long white beard, and, being blind, was guided by a
little dog, who went before him with a collar round his neck. To this
a cord was fastened, which the poor blind man held in his hand.

"It was noticed with how much dexterity the little dog conducted him,
and how he shook a bell, which, I forgot to say, hung underneath his
collar, when he came near any one, as if he had designed to say by
such an action, 'Do not throw down or run against my master.' Being
come into the yard, he sat him down upon a stone, and, hearing several
children talking round him, 'My dear little gentlemen,' said he, 'I
will play you all the pretty tunes that I know, if you will give me
leave.' The children wished for nothing half so much. He put his
violin in tune, and then thrummed over several jigs and other scraps
of music, which, it was easy to conjecture, had been new in former
times.

"Little Gratian saw that while he played his merriest airs, a tear
would now