Hal’s thoughts were, however, at present too full of the uniform to allow his judgment to act with perfect impartiality. As soon as their visit was over, and all the time they walked down the hill from Prince’s Building’s towards Bristol, he continued to repeat nearly the same arguments, which he had formerly used, respecting necessity, the uniform, and Lady Diana Sweepstakes. To all this Mr. Gresham made no reply, and longer had the young gentleman expatiated upon the subject, which had so strongly seized upon his imagination, had not his senses been forcibly assailed at this instant by the delicious odours and tempting sight of certain cakes and jellies in a pastrycook’s shop. “Oh, uncle,” said he, as his uncle was going to turn the corner to pursue the road to Bristol, “look at those jellies!” pointing to a confectioner’s shop. “I must buy some of those good things, for I have got some halfpence in my pocket.” “Your having halfpence in your pocket is an excellent reason for eating,” said Mr. Gresham, smiling. “But I really am hungry,” said Hal; “you know, uncle, it is a good while since breakfast.” His uncle, who was desirous to see his nephews act without restraint, that he might judge their characters, bid them do as they pleased. “Come, then, Ben, if you’ve any halfpence in your pocket.” “I’m not hungry,” said Ben. “I suppose _that_ means that you’ve no halfpence,” said Hal, laughing, with the look of superiority which he had been taught to think the _rich_ might assume towards those who were convicted either of poverty or economy. “Waste not, want not,” said Ben to himself. Contrary to his cousin’s surmise, he happened to have two pennyworth of halfpence actually in his pocket. At the very moment Hal stepped into the pastrycook’s shop, a poor, industrious man, with a wooden leg, who usually sweeps the dirty corner of the walk which turns at this spot to the Wells, held his hat to Ben, who, after glancing his eye at the petitioner’s well worn broom, instantly produced his twopence. “I wish I had more halfpence for you, my good man,” said he; “but I’ve only twopence.” Hal came out of Mr. Millar’s, the confectioner’s shop, with a hatful of cakes in his hand. Mr. Millar’s dog was sitting on the flags before the door, and he looked up with a wistful, begging eye at Hal, who was eating a queen cake. Hal, who was wasteful even in his good-nature, threw a whole queen cake to the dog, who swallowed it for a single mouthful. “There goes twopence in the form of a queen cake,” said Mr. Gresham. Hal next offered some of his cakes to his uncle and cousin; but they thanked him, and refused to eat any, because, they said, they were not hungry; so he ate and ate as he walked along, till at last he stopped, and said, “This bun tastes so bad after the queen cakes, I can’t bear it!” and he was going to fling it from him into the river.