At last, after some hours, she gave him a beautiful toy for which she had paid fifteen shillings.  It was a sand toy of a woman sitting at a spinning-wheel, and when it was turned up the little figure began spinning away, and the wheel turned round and round as fast as if the woman who turned it had been alive.  Alfred wanted to see how it was done, but, instead of going to his mother to ask her if she would be so good as to explain it to him, he began pulling it to pieces to look behind it.  For some time he was very busy, and he had just succeeded in opening the large box at the back of the figure when all the sand that was in it came pouring out upon the floor, and when he tried to make the little woman spin again, he found she would not do it any more.  She could not, for it was the sand dropping down that had made her move before.

Now, do you know that Alfred was so very silly that he began to be angry even with the toy, and he said, “Spin, I say! spin directly!” and then he shook it very hard, but in vain.  The little hands did not move, and the wheel stood still.  So then he was very angry indeed, and, setting up a loud cry, he threw the toy to the other end of the room.  Just at this very moment the servant opened the door and said that dinner was ready, and that Alfred’s cousins were arrived.

“Come, my dear child; you are tired of your toys, I see,” said his mother, “so come to dinner, darling.  It is all ready under the tree.”

So away they went, leaving the room all strewed with toys, with broken pieces, and the sand all spilt in a heap upon the floor.  When they went under the dark spreading branches of the fine old cedar-tree, there they saw the table covered with dishes and garnished with flowers.  There were chickens, and ham, and tongue, and lobsters, besides tarts, and custards, and jellies, and cakes, and cream, and I do not know how many nice things besides.  There was Alfred’s high chair at the head of the table, and he was soon seated in it, as master of the feast, with his mother sitting by him, his cousins opposite to him, his nurse standing on the other side, and the two footmen waiting besides.

As soon as his cousins were helped to what they liked best, his mother said: 

“What will you eat first, Alfred, my love?  A wing of a chicken?”

“No,” said Alfred, pushing it away.

“A slice of ham, darling?” said nurse.

“No,” said Alfred, in a louder tone.

“A little bit of lobster, my dear?”

“No, no,” replied the naughty boy.

“Well, what will you have, then?” said his mother, who was almost tired of him.

“I will have oyster patties,” said he.

“That is the only thing you cannot have, my love, you know, so do not think of it any more, but taste a bit of this pie.  I am sure you will like it.”

“You said I should have oyster patties by dinner-time,” said Alfred, “and so I will have nothing else.”