at other times pull down heavy things upon his head; and once he narrowly escaped being scalded to death by a kettle of boiling water. He was also so delicately brought up that he was perpetually ill; the least wind or rain gave him a cold, and the least sun was sure to throw him into a fever. Instead of playing about, and jumping, and running like other children, he was taught to sit still for fear of spoiling his clothes, and to stay in the house for fear of injuring his complexion. By this sort of education, when Master Merton came over to England, he could neither read, write, nor cipher; he could use none of his limbs with ease, nor bear any degree of fatigue; yet he was very proud, fretful, and impatient.

Very near to Mr. Merton's seat lived a plain, honest farmer, named Sandford. This man had, like Mr. Merton, an only son, not much older than Master Merton, whose name was Harry. Harry, as he had been always accustomed to run about in the fields, to follow the laborers while they were plowing, and to drive the sheep to their pasture, was active, strong, hardy, and fresh-colored. He was neither so fair nor so delicately shaped as Master Merton, but he had an honest, good-natured countenance, which made everybody love him; was never out of humor, and took the greatest pleasure in obliging everybody. If little Harry, while eating his dinner, saw a poor wretch who wanted food, he was sure to give him half, and sometimes the whole nay, so very kind was he to everything, that he would never go into the fields to take the eggs of poor birds, or their young ones, nor practice any other sort of sport which gave pain. to poor animals, who are as capable of feeling as we are ourselves, though they have no words to express their sufferings. Once, indeed, Harry was caught twirling a cockchafer round, which he had fastened by a crooked pin to a long piece of thread: but this was through ignorance and want of thought; for, as soon as his father told him that the poor helpless insect felt as much or more than he would do were a knife thrust through his hand, he burst into tears, and took the poor insect home, where he fed him during a fortnight upon fresh leaves; and, when perfectly recovered, he turned him out to enjoy liberty and the fresh air. Ever since that time, Harry had been so careful and considerate that he would step out of the way for fear of hurting a worm, and employed himself in doing kind offices to all the animals in the neighborhood. He used to pat and stroke the horses as they were at work, and fill his pockets with acorns for the pigs.

If

he walked in the fields, he was sure to gather green boughs for the sheep, who were so fond of him that they followed him wherever he went. In the winter time, when the ground was covered with frost and snow, and the poor little birds could get at no food, he would often go supperless to bed, that he might feed the robin redbreasts. Even toads, and frogs, and spiders, and all such disagreeable things, which most people destroy wherever they find them, were perfectly safe with Harry: he used to say they had a right to live as well as we, and that it was cruel and unjust to kill creatures only because we did not like them.

These sentiments made Harry a great favorite with everybody; particularly with the clergyman of the parish, who became so fond of him, that he taught him to read and write, and had him almost always with him. Indeed, it was not surprising that Mr. Barlow showed so particular an affection for him; for besides learning with the greatest readiness everything that was taught him, little Harry was the most honest, obliging creature in the world. Whatever he was desired to do, he was never discontented, nor did he ever grumble. And then you might believe Harry in everything he said; for though he could have gained a plum cake by telling an untruth, and was certain that speaking the truth would expose him to a severe whipping, he never hesitated in declaring it. Nor was he like many other children who place their whole happiness in eating; for give him only a morsel of dry bread for his dinner, and he would be satisfied, though you placed sweetmeats, and fruit, and every other nicety, in his way.

Master Merton became acquainted with this little boy in the following manner: As he and the maid were walking in the fields on a fine summer's morning, diverting themselves with gathering different kinds of wild flowers, and running after butterflies, a large snake suddenly started up from among some long grass, and coiled itself round little Tommy's leg. The fright they were both in at this accident may be imagined: the maid ran away shrieking for help, while the child, in an agony of terror, did not dare to stir from the spot where he was standing. Harry, who happened to be walking near, came running up, and asked what was the matter. Tommy, who was sobbing most piteously, could not find words to tell him, but pointed to his leg, and made Harry sensible of what had happened. Harry, who, though young, was a boy of the most

courageous spirit, told him not to be frightened; and instantly seizing the snake by the neck with as much dexterity as resolution, tore him from Tommy's leg, and threw him off to a great distance.

Just as this happened, Mrs. Merton and all the family, alarmed by the servant's cries, came running breathless to the place, as Tommy was recovering his spirits and thanking his brave little deliverer. Her first emotions were to catch her darling up in her arms, and after giving him a thousand kisses, to ask him whether he had received any hurt.

"No," said Tommy, "indeed I have not, mamma; but I believe that nasty ugly beast would have bitten me if that little boy had not come and pulled him off."

"And who are you, my dear," said she, "to whom we are all so obliged?"

"Harry Sandford, madam."

"Well, my child, you are a dear, brave little creature, and you shall go home and dine with us."

"No, thank you, madam; my father will want me."
"And who is your father, my sweet boy?"

"Farmer Sandford, madam, that lives at the bottom of the

hill."

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Well, my dear, you shall be my child henceforth: will you?"

"If you please, madam, if I may have my own father and mother too."

Mrs. Merton instantly dispatched a servant to the farmer's; and taking little Harry by the hand, she led him to the mansion; where she found Mr. Merton, whom she entertained with a long account of Tommy's danger and Harry's bravery.

Harry was now in a new scene of life. He was carried through costly apartments, where everything that could please the eye, or contribute to convenience, was assembled. He saw large looking-glasses in gilded frames, carved tables and chairs, curtains of the finest silk; and the very plates and knives and forks were silver. At dinner he was placed close to Mrs. Merton, who took care to supply him with the choicest bits, and engaged him to eat with the most endearing kindness: but, to the astonishment of everybody, he appeared neither pleased nor surprised at anything he saw. Mrs. Merton could not conceal her disappointment; for, as she had always been accustomed to a great degree of finery herself, she had

expected it should make the same impression upon everybody else. At last, seeing him eye a small silver cup with great attention, out of which he had been drinking, she asked him whether he should not like to have such a fine thing to drink out of? and added, that though it was Tommy's cup, she was sure he would with great pleasure give it to his little friend.

"Yes, that I will," said Tommy; "for you know, mamma, I have a much finer one than that made of gold, besides two large ones made of silver."

"Thank you with all my heart," said little Harry; "but I will not rob you of it, for I have a much better one at home." "How!" said Mrs. Merton; "does your father eat and drink out of silver?"

"I don't know, madam, what you call this; but we drink at home out of long things made of horn, just such as the cows wear upon their heads."

"The child is a simpleton, I think," said Mrs. Merton. "And why are they better than silver ones?"

"Because," said Harry, "they never make us uneasy." "Make you uneasy, my child!" said Mrs. Merton, "what do you mean? "

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Why, madam, when the man threw that great thing down, which looks just like this, I saw that you were very sorry about it, and looked as though you had been just ready to drop. Now, ours at home are thrown about by all the family, and nobody minds it."

After dinner Mrs. Merton filled a large glass of wine, and giving it to Harry, bade him drink it up; but he thanked her, and said he was not thirsty.

"But, my dear," said she, "this is very sweet and pleasant, and as you are a good boy, you may drink it up."

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Aye! but, madam, Mr. Barlow says that we must only eat when we are hungry, and drink when we are thirsty; and that we must eat and drink only such things as are easily met with; otherwise we shall grow peevish and vexed when we can't get them. And this was the way that the Apostles did, who were all very good men."

Mr. Merton laughed at this.

"And pray," said he, "little man, do you know who the Apostles were?"

"Oh, yes, sir, to be sure I do!"

"And who were they?"

"Why, sir, there was a time when people had grown so very wicked that they did not care what they did; and the great folk were proud, and minded nothing but eating, drinking, and sleeping, and amusing themselves; and took no care of the poor, and would not give a morsel of bread to hinder a beggar from starving; and the poor were all lazy, and loved to be idle better than to work; and little boys were disobedient to their parents, and their parents took no care to teach them anything that was good; and all the world was very bad, very bad indeed. bad indeed. And then there came a very good

man indeed a man from heaven, whose name was Christ; and He went about doing good to everybody, and curing people of all sorts of diseases, and taught them what they ought to do and He chose out twelve other very good men, and called them Apostles; and these Apostles went about the world doing as He did, and teaching people as He taught them. And they never minded what they ate or drank, but lived upon dry bread and water; and when anybody offered them money, they would not take it, but told them to be good, and give it to the poor and the sick and so they made the world a great deal better. And therefore it is not fit to mind what we live upon, but we should take what we can get, and be contented; just as the beasts. and birds do, who lodge in the open air, and live upon herbs, and drink nothing but water; and yet they are strong, and active, and healthy."

"Upon my word," said Mr. Merton, "this little man is a great philosopher; and we should be much obliged to Mr. Barlow if he would take our Tommy under his care; for he grows a great boy, and it is time that he should know something. What say you, Tommy, should you like to be a philosopher?”

"Indeed, papa, I don't know what a philosopher is; but I should like to be a king; because he's finer and richer than anybody else, and has nothing to do, and everybody waits upon him, and is afraid of him."

“Well said, my dear," replied Mrs. Merton; and rose and kissed him; "and a king you deserve to be with such a spirit; and here's a glass of wine for you for making such a pretty answer. And should not you like to be a king, too, little Harry?"

“Indeed, madam, I don't know what that is; but I hope I shall soon be big enough to go to plow, and get my own living; and then I shall want nobody to wait upon me.”