_Pop._ “And you’ll hold _your_ tongue, Miss! And I shall speak as I like. And I’m a man, and I don’t want any of your stuff and nonsense. I say, Mary, give us the marmalade!” _Cis._ “You have had plenty to eat, and boys oughtn’t to have so much.” _Pop._ “Boys may have what they like. Boys can eat twice as much as women. There, I don’t want any more. Anybody may have the rest.” _Mrs. Prior._ “What nice marmalade! I know some children, my dears, who——” _Miss P._ (imploringly). “Mamma, I beseech you——” _Mrs. P._ “I know three dear children who very—very seldom have nice marmalade and delicious cake.” _Pop._ “I know whom you mean: you mean Augustus, and Frederick, and Fanny—your children? Well, they shall have marmalade and cake.” _Cis._ “Oh, yes, I will give them all mine.” _Pop._ (who speaks, I think, as if his mouth was full). “I won’t give ’em mine: but they can have another pot, you know. You have always got a basket with you; you know you have, Mrs. Prior. You had it the day you took the cold fowl.” _Mrs. P._ “For the poor blind black man! Oh, how thankful he was to his dear young benefactors! He is a man and a brother, and to help him was most kind of you, dear Master Popham!” _Pop._ “That black beggar my brother? He ain’t my brother!” _Mrs. P._ “No, dears, you have both the most lovely complexions in the world.” _Pop._ “Bother complexions! I say, Mary, another pot of marmalade.” _Mary._ “I don’t know, Master Pop——” _Pop._ “I _will_ have it, I say. If you don’t, I’ll smash everything, I will.” _Cis._ “Oh, you naughty, rude boy!” _Pop._ “Hold your tongue, stupid! I will have it, I say.” _Mrs. P._ “Do humour him, Mary, please. And I’m sure my dear children at home will be better for it.” _Pop._ “There’s your basket. Now put this cake in, and this bit of butter, and this sugar on the top of the butter. Hurray! hurray! Oh, what jolly fun! Here’s some cake—no, I think I’ll keep that; and, Mrs. Prior, tell Gus, and Fanny, and Fred, I sent it to ’em, and they shall never want for anything, as long as Frederick Popham Baker Lovel, Esquire, can give it them. Did Gus like my gray greatcoat that I didn’t want?” _Miss P._ “You did not give him your new greatcoat?” _Pop._ “It was beastly ugly, and I did give it him; and I’ll give him this if I choose. And don’t you speak to me; I’m going to school, and I ain’t going to have no governesses soon.” _Mrs. Prior._ “Ah, dear child! what a nice coat it is; and how well my poor boy looks in it!” _Miss Prior._ “Mother, mother! I implore you—mother!” _Mr. Lovel enters._ “So the children at high tea! How d’ye do, Mrs. Prior? I think we shall be able to manage that little matter for your second boy, Mrs. Prior.” _Mrs. Prior._ “Heaven bless you,—bless you, my dear, kind benefactor! Don’t prevent me, Elizabeth: I _must_ kiss his hand. There!”