It was many an hour since I had eaten, and, once more in the open air, my stomach cried out for breakfast.  When a man has never had to want for food, it is with a disagreeable shock he realizes that he must be hungry.  True, I had the crown piece, and before the sun had mounted I was sore tempted to spend it; but the vow I had inwardly made to keep it for its owner, together with a shame-faced reluctance to appear in my present condition before a fellow man, helped me for a time to bear my hunger.  Yet I knew that I could not go long without food, and it would soon become imperative that I should pocket my pride and either change the crown or seek some means of earning enough to buy myself a meal.

For a time I trudged through the fields, avoiding the public eye.  Coming at length to a road, which I took to be the highroad, I set off along it, stiffening my resolution to ask for a job at the first village I reached.  But just as a row of cottages came in sight, and I was considering in what terms to make my request, a parson and a lady on horseback turned into the road from a by-lane, and when they had passed I heard a ripple of laughter from the lady, no doubt in response to some jest from her companion on my ridiculous appearance.

This set my blood a-boiling; I flung away in a rage, leapt a stile into a field, and felt that I would rather starve than ask assistance of a living soul.  I sat down beneath a hedge, utterly woebegone, and chewed the bitter cud of my misfortunes until for sheer weariness I fell asleep.

When I awoke, the sun, which had shone brilliantly all day, was already sloping to the west.  My rage was gone now, and I cursed myself for a fool.  A pretty spirit I had shown indeed!  What was I good for if I could not bear a little ridicule?

“Let ’em laugh, and go hang!” I cried, and up I sprang, resolved to accost the first person I met, whoever it might be, and at any rate earn a crust.

I walked along the field, took a long draught from a clear brook that crossed it, and coming into the road, spied a large house lying some way back amid trees.  True to my resolve, I made towards it, entered an iron gate that stood open, and was marching up the broad gravel walk leading to the house when I was checked by a voice.

“Hi, you fellow, what do you want here?”

I turned, and saw a well-dressed boy of about my own age coming out of a shrubbery into the walk.  I stopped, feeling a certain awkwardness, and stood before him, looking sheepish enough, no doubt.  He eyed me for a moment; then burst out a-laughing.

“You have no business here; get you gone, fellow,” he said, when he had recovered.

I gulped down the wrath that rose in me, and said quietly: 

“I was but on my way to ask if I might do something to earn a meal and a night’s lodging.”

He looked at me curiously, perceiving that in mode of speech I was somewhat different from the low tramp I looked.  But youth is often impatient and hard; my appearance consorted so little with my tongue that he had much excuse for regarding me as a ne’er-do-well, the less deserving of pity because he probably owed his plight to vicious courses.