eborah_ and _Miss Catherine_; in a little time they must be sent
to boarding-school to learn French and music, and wriggling about the
room; and when they come back, who must boil the pot, or make the
pudding, or sweep the house, or serve the pigs? Did you ever hear of
Miss Juliana, or Miss Harriet, or Miss Carolina, doing such vulgar
things?"

Mr Merton was very much struck with the honest farmer's method of
expressing himself, and could not help internally allowing the truth of
his representations; yet he still pressed him to accept his present, and
reminded him of the improvement of his farm.

"Thank you, again and again," replied the farmer; "but the whole
generation of the Sandfords have been brought up to labour with their
own hands for these hundred years; and during all that time there has
not been a dishonest person, a gentleman, or a madman amongst us. And
shall I be the first to break the customs of the family, and perhaps
bring down a curse on all our heads? What could I have more if I were a
lord or a macaroni, as I think you call them? I have plenty of victuals
and work, good firing, clothes, warm house, a little for the poor, and,
between you and I, something perhaps in a corner to set my children off
with if they behave well. Ah! neighbour, neighbour, if you did but know
the pleasure of holding plough after a good team of horses, and then
going tired to bed, perhaps you'd wish to have been brought up a farmer
too. But, in one word, as well as a thousand, I shall never forget the
extraordinary kindness of your offer; but if you would not ruin a whole
family of innocent people that love you, e'en consent to leave us as we
are."

Mr Merton then seeing the fixed determination of the farmer, and feeling
the justice of his coarse but strong morality, was obliged, however
reluctantly, to desist; and Mrs Sandford coming to invite them to
dinner, he entered the house, and paid his respects to the family.

After the cloth was removed, and Mr Sandford had twice or thrice
replenished his silver mug, the only piece of finery in his house,
little Harry came running in, with so much alacrity and heedlessness
that he tore Miss Deborah's best apron, and he had nearly precipitated
Miss Catherine's new cap into the fire, for which the young ladies and
his mother rebuked him with some acrimony. But Harry, after begging
pardon with his usual good-humour, cried, "Father, father, here is the
prettiest team of horses, all m