ramble upon the table, seize the cake and bread and
butter, and frequently overset the tea-cups. By these pranks he not only
made himself disagreeable to everybody else, but often met with very
dangerous accidents. Frequently did he cut himself with knives, at other
times throw 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
kind of education, when Master Merton came over to England he could
neither write nor read, nor cipher; he could use none of his limbs with
ease, nor bear any degree of fatigue; but he was very proud, fretful,
and impatient.

Very near to Mr Merton's seat lived a plain, honest farmer, whose name
was 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 labourers while
they were ploughing, and to drive the sheep to their pasture, was
active, strong, hardy, and fresh-coloured. 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 humour, and
took the greatest pleasure in obliging everybody. If little Harry saw a
poor wretch who wanted victuals, while he was eating his dinner, he was
sure to give him half, and sometimes the whole: nay, so very
good-natured was he to everything, that he would never go into the
fields to take the eggs of poor birds, or their young ones, nor practise
any other kind of sport which gave pain to poor animals, who are as
capable of feeling as we ourselves, though they have no words to express
their sufferings. Once, indeed, Harry was caught twirling a cock-chafer
round, which he had fastened by a crooked pin to a long piece of thread:
but then 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 animal home, where he fed him during a
fortnigh