Unfortunately for the peace of society, Aunt Mary helped Freddy to some ham without being asked, and before that young gentleman had made up his mind as to what he should choose. This was indeed a sad mistake, though done without the slightest suspicion of giving offence; but the offence was very quickly manifested. 'I didn't want ham,' said the rude boy, as he pushed his plate from him; 'I wanted some tongue.' 'That is not a proper way to speak, my dear,' said his aunt; 'and you must eat what I have given you first, then you shall have some tongue.' This was strange language to the wayward boy; he resented it by another push of his plate, and leaning back in his chair with the determination of a martyr. Wonderful, he thought it, that no one at the breakfast-table, not even mamma, took the slightest notice of him, or seemed to care whether he had any breakfast or not. The fact was that a very significant look from Aunt Mary had imposed silence upon mamma, and sisters, and cousins, and the little ones were far too busy on their own account to give heed to Freddy, who was quarrelling with his bread and butter. In short, neither by word nor look had any effort been made to soothe the perturbed spirit of the really hungry boy. This state of things, however, was not to be endured; so thought Fred, when, after waiting a considerable time, and casting furtive glances around to see if there were any signs in his favour, but perceiving none, he pushed his chair away from the table and rushed out of the room, quite unable longer to suppress his passion or his tears. This was the signal for Mrs. Ellis to remonstrate, which she had all along wished to do. 'Really, Mary, you are too severe on the poor boy,' she began, but was immediately, though kindly, silenced by Miss Livesay. 'Not now, if you please, dear,' said Aunt Mary; 'we will not discuss this point before the juveniles, we will talk it over by-and-by. In the meantime, Freddy has, I hear, gone into the garden, where he can amuse himself without getting into mischief.'