every thing, keeps it all to himself; beats poor people if they don't serve him for nothing; and when they have done him the greatest favour, in spite of his insolence, he never feels any gratitude, nor does them any good in

return.

32. Thomas was so affected with this rebuke that he could hardly restrain his tears, and, as he was really a boy of generous temper, he determined to give the little ragged boy something the very first time he should see him again. He did not long wait for an opportunity; for, as he was walking out that very afternoon, he saw him at some distance gathering blackberries, and going up to him, he accosted him thus: Little boy, I want to know why you are so ragged; have you no other clothes?

33. No, indeed, said the boy; I have seven brothers and sisters, and they are all as ragged as myself, but I should not much mind that, if I could have victuals enough to eat. T. And why cannot you have victuals enough to eat? Little Boy. Because my father is ill of a fever, and can't work this harvest; so that mother says we must all starve, if God Almighty does not take care of us.

34. Thomas made no answer, but ran full speed to the house, whence he presently returned, loaded with a loaf of bread, and a complete suit of his own clothes. Here, little boy, said he, you were very good-natured to me, and so I will give you all this, because I am a gentleman, and have many more. Nothing could equal the joy which appeared in the boy's countenance at receiving this present, excepting what Thomas himself felt the first time at the idea of doing a generous and grateful action.

35. He strutted away without waiting for the little boy's acknowledgments, and happening to meet Mr. Barlow, as he was returning home, told him with an air of exultation, what he had done. Mr. Barlow coldly answered, You have done very well in giving the little boy clothes, because they are your own; but what right had you to give away my loaf of bread without asking my consent? T. Why, sir, I did it because the little boy said he was very hungry, and had seven brothers and sisters, and that his father was ill, and could not work.

36. Mr. B. This is a very good reason why you should give them what belongs to yourself; but not why you should give away what is another's. What would you say, if Henry were to give away your clothes without ask

ing your leave? T. I should not like it at all; and I will not give away your things any more without asking your leave.

37. The next day they were surprised to see a little ragged boy running up to them, with a bundle of clothes under his arm: his eyes were black as if he had been severely beaten, his nose was swelled, his shirt was bloody, and his waistcoat did but just hang upon his back, so much was it torn. He came running up to Thomas, and threw down the bundle before him, saying, here, take your clothes again, and I wish that they had been at the bottom of the ditch I pulled you out of, instead of upon my back;-but I never will put such finery on again as long as I live.

38. What is the matter, said Mr. Barlow, who perceived that some unfortunate accident had happened in consequence of Thomas' present? Sir, answered the little boy, he was going to beat me because I would not fetch his ball. Now, I would have brought his ball with all my heart, if he had but asked me civilly.

39. But, though I am poor, I am not bound to be his slave, as they say black William is, and so I would not; upon which he was jumping over the hedge to beat me, but instead of that, he soused into the ditch, and there he lay rolling about till I helped him out. And so he gave me these clothes, all out of good will, and I put them on like a fool as I was: for they are all made of silk, and looked so fine that all the boys followed me, and hallooed as I went, and John Dowset threw a handful of dirt at me, and dirtied me all over.

40. Oh! says I, John, are you at that work?—and with that I hit him a punch in the side, and sent him roaring away. But William Gibson and Edward Kelly came up, and said I looked like a dandy; and so we began fighting, and I beat them till they both gave out; but I don't choose to be hallooed after wherever I go, and so I have brought back the clothes again.

41. Mr. Barlow asked the little boy where his father lived; and he told him that his father lived about two miles off across the common, and at the end of Runny Lane; upon which Mr. Barlow told Henry that he would send the poor man some broth and victuals, if he would carry them when they were ready. That I will, says Henry, if it were five times as far; so Mr. Barlow went into the house to give orders about it.

G

42. In the mean time, Thomas, who had eyed the little boy for some time in silence, said, So, my poor boy, you have been beaten and hurt till you are all over bloody, only because I gave you my clothes; I am really very sorry for it. Thank you, said the boy, but it can't be helped; you did not intend me any hurt I know, and I am not such a chicken as to mind a beating: so I wish you a good after noon with all my heart.

43. As soon as the little boy was gone, Thomas said, I wish I had but some clothes that the poor boy could wear, for he seems very good natured; I would give them to him. That you may very easily have, said Henry; for there is a shop in the village hard by, where they sell all manner of clothes; and, as you have money, you may easily buy some.

44. Henry and Thomas then agreed to go early the next morning to buy some clothes for the poor children. They accordingly set out before breakfast, and went to the village, where Thomas laid out all his money, amounting to fifteen shillings and sixpence, in buying some clothes for the little ragged boy and his brothers, which were made up into a bundle and given to him; but he desired Henry to carry them for him.

45. That I will, said Henry; but why don't you choose to carry them yourself? Why, it is not fit for a gentleman to carry things himself. H. Why, what hurt does it do him, if he is but strong enough? T. I do not know-but I believe it is that he may not look like common people. H. Then he should not have hands, or feet, or eyes, or ears, or mouth, because the common people have the same.

46. T. No, no, he must have all these, because they are useful. H. And is it not useful to be able to do things for ourselves? T. Yes, but gentlemen have others to do what they want for them. H. Then I should think it must be a bad thing to be a gentleman. T. Why so! H. Because if all were gentlemen, nobody would do any thing, and then we should be all starved.

47. When they came to the poor man's cottage, Thomas asked for the little boy, and upon his coming in, told him that he had now brought him some clothes which he might wear without fear of being called a dandy, as well as some more for his little brothers. The pleasure with which they were received was so great, and the acknowledgments and blessings of the good woman and the poor man, who

had just begun to sit up, were so many, that little Thomas could not help shedding tears of compassion, in which he was joined by Henry.

48. As they were returning, Thomas said that he had never spent any money with so much pleasure, as that with which he had purchased clothes for this poor family; and that for the future, he would take care of all the money that was given him, for that purpose, instead of laying it out in cakes, sugar candy, nuts, fine clothes and playthings.

SECTION III.

The History of Sandford and Merton, continued. 1. THE next day little Henry came in from his father's house, and brought with him the chicken, which, it has been mentioned, he had saved from the claws of the kite. The little animal was now perfectly recovered from the hurt it had received, and showed so great a degree of affection for its protector, that it would run after him like a dog, hop upon his shoulder, nestle in his bosom, and eat crumbs out of his hand.

2. Thomas was extremely surprised and pleased to see its tameness and docility, and asked by what means it had been made so gentle. Henry told him, he had taken no particular pains about it; but that, as the poor little creature had been sadly hurt, he had fed it every day till it was well; and that, in consequence of that kindness, it had become very fond of him.

3. Thomas was much pleased with this conversation; and being both good-natured and desirous of making experiments, he determined to try his skill in taming animals. Accordingly, he took a large slice of bread in his hand, and went out to seek some animal which he might give it to. The first creature which he happened to meet was a sucking pig that had rambled from its mother, and was basking in the sun.

4. Thomas would not neglect the opportunity of showing his talents: he therefore called Pig, pig, pig, come hither little pig! But the pig, not exactly comprehending his intentions, only grunted and ran away. You little ungrateful thing, said Thomas, do you treat me in this manner when I want to feed you? If you do not know your friends, I must teach you.

5. Saying this he sprang at the pig, and caught him by

the hind leg, intending to have given him the bread which he had in his hand; but the pig was not used to be treated in that manner, and began struggling and squeaking to that degree that the sow, who was within hearing, came running to the place, with all the rest of the litter at her heels. As Thomas did not know whether she would be pleased with his civilities to her young one, or not, he thought it most prudent to let it go: and the pig, endeavouring to escape as speedily as possible, unfortunately ran between his legs,

and threw him down.

6. The place where this accident happened was extremely wet; therefore, Thomas in falling, dirtied himself from head to foot, and the sow, coming up at that instant, passed over him as he attempted to rise, and rolled him back again into the mire. Thomas, who was not the coolest in his temper, was extremely provoked at this ungrateful return for his intended kindness, and losing all patience, he seized the sow by the hind leg, and began pounding her with all his might as she attempted to escape.

7. The sow, as may be imagined, did not relish such treatment, but endeavoured with all her force to escape: but Thomas keeping his hold, and continuing his discipline, she struggled with such violence as to drag him several yards, squeaking in the most lamentable manner all the time, in which she was joined by the whole litter of pigs.

8. During the heat of this contest, a large flock of geese happened to be crossing the road, into the midst of which the affrighted sow ran headlong, dragging the enraged Thomas at her heels. The goslings retreated with the greatest precipitation, joining their mournful cackling to the general noise; but a gander of more than common size and courage, resenting the unprovoked attack which had been made upon his family, flew at Thomas' hinder parts, and gave him several severe strokes with his bill and wings.

This

9. Thomas, whose courage had hitherto been unconquerable, being thus unexpectedly attacked by a new enemy, was obliged to yield, and not knowing the precise extent of his danger, he not only suffered the sow to escape, but joined his vociferations to the general scream. alarmed Mr. Barlow, who coming up to the place, found his pupil in the most woful plight, daubed from head to foot, with his face and hands as black as those of a chimney-sweeper.

10. He inquired what was the matter, and Thomas as