He was observed, after dinner, carefully to gather up the remnants left at his table (not many, nor very choice fragments, you may credit me)—­and, in an especial manner, these disreputable morsels, which he would convey away, and secretly stow in the settle that stood at his bed-side.  None saw when he ate them.  It was rumoured that he privately devoured them in the night.  He was watched, but no traces of such midnight practices were discoverable.  Some reported, that, on leave-days, he had been seen to carry out of the bounds a large blue check handkerchief, full of something.  This then must be the accursed thing.  Conjecture next was at work to imagine how he could dispose of it.  Some said he sold it to the beggars.  This belief generally prevailed.  He went about moping.  None spake to him.  No one would play with him.  He was excommunicated; put out of the pale of the school.  He was too powerful a boy to be beaten, but he underwent every mode of that negative punishment, which is more grievous than many stripes.  Still he persevered.  At length he was observed by two of his school-fellows, who were determined to get at the secret, and had traced him one leave-day for that purpose, to enter a large worn-out building, such as there exist specimens of in Chancery-lane, which are let out to various scales of pauperism with open door, and a common staircase.  After him they silently slunk in, and followed by stealth up four flights, and saw him tap at a poor wicket, which was opened by an aged woman, meanly clad.  Suspicion was now ripened into certainty.  The informers had secured their victim.  They had him in their toils.  Accusation was formally preferred, and retribution most signal was looked for.  Mr. Hathaway, the then steward (for this happened a little after my time), with that patient sagacity which tempered all his conduct, determined to investigate the matter, before he proceeded to sentence.  The result was, that the supposed mendicants, the receivers or purchasers of the mysterious scraps, turned out to be the parents of ——­, an honest couple come to decay,—­whom this seasonable supply had, in all probability, saved from mendicancy; and that this young stork, at the expense of his own good name, had all this while been only feeding the old birds!—­The governors on this occasion, much to their honour, voted a present relief to the family of ——­, and presented him with a silver medal.  The lesson which the steward read upon RASH JUDGMENT, on the occasion of publicly delivering the medal to ——­, I believe, would not be lost upon his auditory.—­I had left school then, but I well remember ——.  He was a tall, shambling youth, with a cast in his eye, not at all calculated to conciliate hostile prejudices.  I have since seen him carrying a baker’s basket.  I think I heard he did not do quite so well by himself, as he had done by the old folks.