He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this discourse went on, and in the little peevish contentions of nature betwixt hunger and unsavouriness, had dropt it out of his mouth half a dozen times, and pick'd it up again ----God help thee, _Jack!_ said I, thou hast a bitter breakfast on't--and many a bitter day's labour, --and many a bitter blow, I fear, for its wages----'tis all--all bitterness to thee, whatever life is to others. ----And now thy mouth, if one knew the truth of it, is as bitter, I dare say, as soot--(for he had cast aside the stem) and thou hast not a friend perhaps in all this world, that will give thee a macaroon. ----In saying this, I pull'd out a paper of 'em, which I had just purchased, and gave him one--and at this moment that I am telling it, my heart smites me, that there was more of pleasantry in the conceit, of seeing _how_ an ass would eat a macaroon----than of benevolence in giving him one, which presided in the act.

He was eating the stem of an artichoke as this went on, and had dropped it out of his mouth half a dozen times, and picked it up again.
'God help thee, Jack!' said I, 'thou hast a bitter breakfast - and a bitter day's labour, and many a bitter blow, I fear, for wages. - And now thy mouth is as bitter, I dare say, as soot' (for he had cast aside the stem) 'and thou hast not a friend in all this world, that will give thee a macaroon.'
In saying this, I pulled out a bag of 'em, which I had just purchased, and gave him one - and my heart smites me, that I did this more to see how an ass would eat a macaroon than out of kindness.
