Here little Harry came in from his father's house, and brought with him the chicken, which, it had been mentioned, he had saved from the claws of the kite. The little animal was now perfectly recovered of the hurt it had received, and showed so great a degree of affection to 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. Tommy was extremely surprised and pleased to remark its tameness and docility, and asked by what means it had been made so gentle. Harry 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 conceived a great degree of affection towards him.

"Indeed," said Tommy, "that is very surprising; for I thought all birds had flown away whenever a man came near them, and that even the fowls which are kept at home would never let you touch them." Mr B.—And what do you imagine is the reason of that? T.—Because they are wild. Mr B.—And what is a fowl's being wild? T.—When he will not let you come near him. Mr B.—Then a fowl is wild because he will not let you come near him. This is saying nothing more than that when a fowl is wild he will not let you approach him. But I want to know what is the reason of his being wild. T.—Indeed, sir, I cannot tell, unless it is because they are naturally so. Mr B.—But if they were naturally so, this fowl could not be fond of Harry. T.—That is because he is so good to it. Mr B.—Very likely. Then it is not natural for an animal to run away from a person that is good to him? T.—No, sir; I believe not. Mr B.—But when a person is not good to him, or endeavours to hurt him, it is natural for an animal to run away from him, is it not? T.—Yes. Mr B.—And then you say he is wild, do you not? T.—Yes, sir. Mr B.—Why, then, it is probable that animals are only wild because they are afraid of being hurt, and that they only run away from the fear of danger. I believe you would do the same from a lion or a tiger. T.—Indeed I would, sir. Mr B.—And yet you do not call yourself a wild animal? Tommy laughed heartily at this, and said No. "Therefore," said Mr Barlow, "if you want to tame animals, you must be good to them, and treat them kindly, and then they will no longer fear you, but come to you and love you." "Indeed," said Harry, "that is very true; for I knew a little boy that took a great fancy to a snake that lived in his father's garden; and, when he had the milk for breakfast, he used to sit under a nut tree and whistle, and the snake would come to him and eat out of his bowl." T.—And did it not bite him? H.—No; he sometimes used to give it a pat with his spoon, if it ate too fast; but it never hurt him.

Tommy 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 that he might give it to. The first thing that he happened to meet was a sucking pig that had rambled from its mother, and was basking in the sun. Tommy would not neglect the opportunity of showing his talents; he therefore called Pig, pig, pig! come hither, little pig! But the pig, who did not exactly comprehend his intentions, only grunted, and ran away. "You little ungrateful thing," said Tommy, "do you treat me in this manner, when I want to feed you? If you do not know your friends I must teach you." So 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, who was not used to be treated in that manner, 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 Tommy 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. The place where this accident happened was extremely wet; therefore Tommy, in falling, dirtied himself from head to foot; and the sow, who came up at that instant, passed over him, as he attempted to rise, and rolled him back again into the mire.

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

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 Tommy 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 Tommy's hinder parts, and gave him several severe strokes with his bill.

Tommy, whose courage had hitherto been unconquerable, being thus unexpectedly attacked by a new enemy, was obliged to yield to fortune, 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. This alarmed Mr Barlow, who, coming up to the place, found his pupil in the most woeful plight, daubed from head to foot, with his face and hands as black as those of any chimney-sweeper. He inquired what was the matter; and Tommy, as soon as he had recovered breath enough to speak, answered in this manner: "Sir, all this is owing to what you told me about taming animals; I wanted to make them tame and gentle, and to love me, and you see the consequences." "Indeed," said Mr Barlow, "I see you have been ill-treated, but I hope you are not hurt; and if it is owing to anything I have said, I shall feel the more concern." "No," said Tommy, "I cannot say that I am much hurt." "Why, then," said Mr Barlow, "you had better go and wash yourself; and, when you are clean, we will talk over the affair together."

When Tommy had returned, Mr Barlow asked him how the accident had happened? and when he had heard the story, he said, "I am very sorry for your misfortune; but I do not perceive that I was the cause of it, for I do not remember that I ever advised you to catch pigs by the hinder leg." Tommy.—No, sir; but you told me that feeding animals was the way to make them love me; and so I wanted to feed the pig. Mr B.—But it was not my fault that you attempted it in a wrong manner. The animal did not know your intentions, and therefore, when you seized him in so violent a manner, he naturally attempted to escape, and his mother hearing his cries, very naturally came to his assistance. All that happened was owing to your inexperience. Before you meddle with any animal, you should make yourself acquainted with his nature and disposition, otherwise you may fare like the little boy that, in attempting to catch flies, was stung by a wasp; or like another that, seeing an adder sleeping upon a bank, took it for an eel, and was bitten by it, which had nearly cost him his life. T.—But, sir, I thought Harry had mentioned a little boy that used to feed a snake without receiving any hurt from it. Mr B.—That might very well happen; there is scarcely any creature that will do hurt, unless it is attacked or wants food; and some of these reptiles are entirely harmless, others not; therefore the best way is not to meddle with any till you are perfectly acquainted with its nature. Had you observed this rule, you never would have attempted to catch the pig by the hinder leg, in order to tame it; and it is very lucky that you did not make the experiment upon a larger animal, otherwise you might have been as badly treated as the tailor was by the elephant. T.—Pray, sir, what is this curious story? But first tell me, if you please, what an elephant is?

"An elephant," said Mr Barlow, "is the largest land animal that we are acquainted with. It is many times thicker than an ox, and grows to the height of eleven or twelve feet. Its strength, as may be easily imagined, is prodigious; but it is at the same time so very gentle, that it rarely does hurt to anything, even in woods where it resides. It does not eat flesh, but lives upon the fruits and branches of trees. But what is most singular about its make is, that, instead of a nose, it has a long hollow piece of flesh, which grows over its mouth to the length of three or four feet; this is called the trunk of the elephant; and he is capable of bending it in every direction. When he wants to break off the branch of a tree, he twists his trunk round it, and snaps it off directly; when he wants to drink, he lets it down into the water, sucks up several gallons at a time, and then, doubling the end of it back, discharges it all into his mouth."

"But if he is so large and strong," said Tommy, "I should suppose it must be impossible ever to tame him." "So perhaps it would," replied Mr Barlow, "did they not instruct those that have been already tamed to assist in catching others." T.—How is that, sir? Mr B.—When they have discovered a forest where these animals resort, they make a large enclosure with strong pales and a deep ditch, leaving only one entrance to it, which has a strong gate left purposely open. They then let one or two of their tame elephants loose, who join the wild ones, and gradually entice them into the enclosure. As soon as one of these has entered, a man, who stands ready, shuts the gate, and takes him prisoner. The animal, finding himself thus entrapped, begins to grow furious, and attempts to escape; but immediately two tame ones, of the largest size and greatest strength, who have been placed there on purpose, come up to him, one on each side, and beat him with their trunks till he becomes more quiet. A man then comes behind, ties a very large cord to each of his hind-legs, and fastens the other end of it to two great trees. He is then left without food for some hours, and in that time generally becomes so docile as to suffer himself to be conducted to the stable that is prepared for him, where he lives the rest of his life like a horse, or any other sort of domestic animal. T.—And pray, sir, what did the elephant do to the tailor? "There was," said Mr Barlow, "at Surat, a city where many of these tame elephants are kept, a tailor, who used to sit and work in his shed, close to the place to which these elephants were led every day to drink. This man contracted a kind of acquaintance with one of the largest of these beasts, and used to present him with fruits and other vegetables whenever the elephant passed by his door. The elephant was accustomed to put his long trunk in at the window, and to receive in that manner whatever his friend chose to give. But one day the tailor happened to be in a more than ordinary ill-humour, and not considering how dangerous it might prove to provoke an animal of that size and strength, when the elephant put his trunk in at the window as usual, instead of giving him anything to eat, he pricked him with his needle. The elephant instantly withdrew his trunk, and, without showing any marks of resentment, went on with the rest to drink; but, after he had quenched his thirst, he collected a large quantity of the dirtiest water he could find in his trunk—which I have already told you is capable of holding many gallons—and, when he passed by the tailor's shop, in his return, he discharged it full in his face, with so true an aim, that he wetted him all over, and almost drowned him; thus justly punishing the man for his ill-nature and breach of friendship."

"Indeed," said Harry, "considering the strength of the animal, he must have had a great moderation and generosity not to have punished the man more severely; and therefore, I think it is a very great shame to men ever to be cruel to animals, when they are so affectionate and humane to them."

"You are very right," said Mr Barlow; "and I remember another story of an elephant, which, if true, is still more extraordinary. These animals, although in general they are as docile and obedient to the person that takes care of them as a dog, are sometimes seized with a species of impatience which makes them absolutely ungovernable. It is then dangerous to come near them, and very difficult to restrain them. I should have mentioned, that in the Eastern parts of the world, where elephants are found, the kings and princes keep them to ride upon as we do horses; a kind of tent or pavilion is fixed upon the back of the animal, in which one or more persons are placed; and the keeper that is used to manage him sits upon the neck of the elephant, and guides him by means of a pole with an iron hook at the end. Now, as these animals are of great value, the keeper is frequently severely punished if any accident happens to the animal by his carelessness. But one day, one of the largest elephants, being seized with a sudden fit of passion, had broken loose; and, as the keeper was not in the way, nobody was able to appease him, or dared to come near him. While, therefore, he was running about in this manner, he chanced to see the wife of his keeper (who had often fed him as well as her husband), with her young child in her arms, with which she was endeavouring to escape from his fury. The woman ran as fast as she was able; but, finding that it was impossible for her to escape, because these beasts, although so very large, are able to run very fast, she resolutely turned about, and throwing her child down before the elephant, thus accosted him, as if he had been capable of understanding her: "You ungrateful beast, is this the return you make for all the benefits we have bestowed! Have we fed you, and taken care of you, by day and night, during so many years, only that you may at last destroy us all? Crush, then, this poor innocent child and me, in return for the services that my husband has done you!" While she was making these passionate exclamations, the elephant approached the place where the little infant lay, but, instead of trampling upon him, he stopped short, and looked at him with earnestness, as if he had been sensible of shame and confusion; and, his fury from that instant abating, he suffered himself to be led without opposition to his stable."

Tommy thanked Mr Barlow for these two stories, and promised for the future to use more discretion in his kindness to animals.

The next day Tommy and Harry went into the garden to sow the wheat which Harry had brought with him, upon a bed which Tommy had dug for that purpose.

While they were at work, Tommy said, "Pray, Harry, did you ever hear the story of the men that were obliged to live six years upon that terrible cold country (I forget the name of it), where there is nothing but snow and ice, and scarcely any other animals, but great bears, that are ready to eat men up?" Harry.—Yes, I have. T.—And did not the very thoughts of it frighten you dreadfully? H.—No; I cannot say they did. T.—Why, should you like to live in such a country? H.—No, certainly; I am very happy that I was born in such a country as this, where the weather is scarcely ever too hot or too cold; but a man must bear patiently whatever is his lot in this world. T.—That is true. But should you not cry, and be very much afflicted, if you were left upon such a country? H.—I should certainly be very sorry if I was left there alone, more especially as I am not big enough, or strong enough, to defend myself against such fierce animals; but the crying would do me no good; it would be better to do something, and endeavour to help myself. T.—Indeed I think it would; but what could you do? H.—Why, I should endeavour to build myself a house, if I could find myself materials. T.—And what materials is a house made of? I thought it had been impossible to make a house without having a great many people of different trades, such as carpenters and bricklayers. H.—You know there are houses of different sizes. The houses that the poor people live in are very different from your father's house. T.—Yes, they are little, nasty, dirty, disagreeable places; I should not like to live in them at all. H.—And yet the poor are in general as strong and healthy as the rich. But if you could have no other, you would rather live in one of them than be exposed to the weather? T.—Yes, certainly. And how would you make one of them? H.—If I could get any wood, and had a hatchet, I would cut down some branches of trees, and stick them upright in the ground, near to each other. T.—And what then? H.—I would then get some other branches, but more full of small wood; and these I would interweave between them, just as we make hurdles to confine the sheep; and then, as that might not be warm enough to resist the wind and cold, I would cover them over, both within and without, with clay. T.—Clay! what is that? H.—It is a particular kind of earth, that sticks to your feet when you tread upon it, or to your hands when you touch it. T.—I declare I did not think it had been so easy to make a house. And do you think that people could really live in such houses? H.—Certainly they might, because many persons live in such houses here; and I have been told that in many parts of the world they have not any other. T.—Really, I should like to try to make a house; do you think, Harry, that you and I could make one? H.—Yes, if I had wood and clay enough, I think I could, and a small hatchet to sharpen the stakes and make them enter the ground.

Mr Barlow then came to call them in to read, and told Tommy that, as he had been talking so much about good-nature to animals, he had looked him out a very pretty story upon the subject, and begged that he would read it well. "That I will," said Tommy; "for I begin to like reading extremely; and I think that I am happier too since I learned it, for now I can always divert myself." "Indeed," answered Mr Barlow, "most people find it so. When any one can read he will not find the knowledge any burthen to him, and it is his own fault if he is not constantly amused. This is an advantage, Tommy, which a gentleman, since you are so fond of the word, may more particularly enjoy, because he has so much time at his own disposal; and it is much better that he should distinguish himself by having more knowledge and improvement than others, than by fine clothes, or any such trifles, which any one may have that can purchase them as well as himself."

Tommy then read, with a clear and distinct voice, the following story of

"THE GOOD-NATURED LITTLE BOY."

"A little boy went out one morning to walk to a village about five miles from the place where he lived, and carried with him in a basket the provision that was to serve him the whole day. As he was walking along, a poor little half-starved dog came up to him, wagging his tail, and seeming to entreat him to take compassion on him. The little boy at first took no notice of him, but at length, remarking how lean and famished the creature seemed to be, he said, 'This animal is certainly in very great necessity; if I give him part of my provision, I shall be obliged to go home hungry myself; however, as he seems to want it more than I do, he shall partake with me.' Saying this, he gave the dog part of what he had in the basket, who ate as if he had not tasted victuals for a fortnight.

"The little boy then went on a little farther, his dog still following him, and fawning upon him with the greatest gratitude and affection, when he saw a poor old horse lying upon the ground, and groaning as if he was very ill; he went up to him, and saw that he was almost starved, and so weak that he was unable to rise. 'I am very much afraid,' said the little boy, 'if I stay to assist this horse, that it will be dark before I can return; and I have heard that there are several thieves in the neighbourhood; however, I will try—it is doing a good action to attempt to relieve him; and God Almighty will take care of me.' He then went and gathered some grass, which he brought to the horse's mouth, who immediately began to eat with as much relish as if his chief disease was hunger. He then fetched some water in his hat, which the animal drank up, and seemed immediately to be so much refreshed that, after a few trials, he got up and began grazing.

"The little boy then went on a little farther, and saw a man wading about in a pond of water, without being able to get out of it, in spite of all his endeavours. 'What is the matter, good man,' said the little boy to him; 'can't you find your way out of this pond?' 'No, God bless you, my worthy master, or miss,' said the man, 'for such I take you to be by your voice; I have fallen into this pond, and know not how to get out again, as I am quite blind, and I am almost afraid to move for fear of being drowned.' 'Well,' said the little boy, 'though I shall be wetted to the skin, if you will throw me your stick I will try to help you out of it.' The blind man then threw the stick to that side on which he heard the voice; the little boy caught it, and went into the water, feeling very carefully before him, lest he should unguardedly go beyond his depth; at length he reached the blind man, took him very carefully by the hand, and led him out. The blind man then gave him a thousand blessings, and told him he could grope out his way home; and the little boy ran on as hard as he could, to prevent being benighted.

"But he had not proceeded far before he saw a poor sailor, who had lost both his legs in an engagement by sea, hopping along upon crutches. 'God bless you, my little master!' said the sailor; 'I have fought many a battle with the French, to defend poor old England; but now I am crippled, as you see, and have neither victuals nor money, although I am almost famished.' The little boy could not resist the inclination to relieve him; so he gave him all his remaining victuals, and said, 'God help you, poor man! this is all I have, otherwise you should have more.' He then ran along and presently arrived at the town he was going to, did his business, and returned towards his own home with all the expedition he was able.

"But he had not gone much more than half-way before the night shut in extremely dark, without either moon or stars to light him. The poor little boy used his utmost endeavours to find his way, but unfortunately missed it in turning down a lane which brought him into a wood, where he wandered about a great while without being able to find any path to lead him out. Tired out at last, and hungry, he felt himself so feeble that he could go no farther, but set himself down upon the ground, crying most bitterly. In this situation he remained for some time, till at last the little dog, who had never forsaken him, came up to him wagging his tail, and holding something in his mouth. The little boy took it from him, and saw it was a handkerchief nicely pinned together, which somebody had dropped, and the dog, had picked up, and on opening it he found several slices of bread and meat, which the little boy ate with great satisfaction, and felt himself extremely refreshed with his meal. 'So,' said the little boy, 'I see that if I have given you a breakfast, you have given me a supper; and a good turn is never lost, done even to a dog.'

"He then once more attempted to escape from the wood, but it was to no purpose; he only scratched his legs with briers and slipped down in the dirt, without being able to find his way out. He was just going to give up all further attempts in despair, when he happened to see a horse feeding before him, and, going up to him, saw, by the light of the moon, which just then began to shine a little, that it was the very same he had fed in the morning. 'Perhaps,' said the little boy, 'this creature, as I have been so good to him, will let me get upon his back, and he may bring me out of the wood; as he is accustomed to feed in this neighbourhood.' The little boy then went up to the horse, speaking to him and stroking him, and the horse let him mount his back without opposition, and then proceeded slowly through the wood, grazing as he went, till he brought him to an opening which led to the high road. The little boy was much rejoiced at this, and said, 'If I had not saved this creature's life in the morning, I should have been obliged to have stayed here all night; I see by this, that a good turn is never lost.'

"But the poor little boy had yet a greater danger to undergo; for, as he was going down a solitary lane, two men rushed out upon him, laid hold of him, and were going to strip him of his clothes; but just as they were beginning to do it, the little dog bit the leg of one of the men with so much violence, that he left the little boy and pursued the dog, that ran howling and barking away. In this instant a voice was hard that cried out, 'There the rascals are; let us knock them down!' which frightened the remaining man so much that he ran away, and his companion followed him. The little boy then looked up, and saw it was the sailor whom he had relieved in the morning, carried upon the shoulders of the blind man whom he had helped out of the pond. 'There, my little dear,' said the sailor, 'God be thanked! we have come in time to do you a service, in return for what you did us in the morning. As I lay under a hedge I heard these villains talk of robbing a little boy, who, from the description, I concluded must be you; but I was so lame that I should not have been able to come time enough to help you, if I had not meet this honest blind man, who took me upon his back while I showed him the way.'

"The little boy thanked him very sincerely for thus defending him; and they went all together to his father's house, which was not far off, where they were all kindly entertained with a supper and a bed. The little boy took care of his faithful dog as long as he lived, and never forgot the importance and necessity of doing good to others, if we wish them to do the same to us."

"Upon my word," said Tommy, when he had finished, "I am vastly pleased with this story, and I think that it may very likely be true, for I have myself observed that everything seems to love little Harry here, merely because he is good-natured to it. I was much surprised to see the great dog the other day, which I have never dared to touch for fear of being bitten, fawning upon him and licking him all over; it put me in mind of the story of Androcles and the lion." "That dog," said Mr Barlow, "will be equally fond of you, if you are kind to him; for nothing equals the sagacity and gratitude of a dog. But since you have read a story about a good-natured boy, Harry shall read you another concerning a boy of a contrary disposition."

Harry read the following story of

"THE ILL-NATURED BOY."

"There was once a little boy who was so unfortunate as to have a very bad man for his father, who was always surly and ill-tempered, and never gave his children either good instructions or good example; in consequence of which this little boy, who might otherwise have been happier and better, became ill-natured, quarrelsome, and disagreeable to everybody. He very often was severely beaten for his impertinence by boys that were bigger than himself, and sometimes by boys that were less; for, though he was very abusive and quarrelsome, he did not much like fighting, and generally trusted more to his heels than his courage, when he had engaged himself in a quarrel. This little boy had a cur-dog that was the exact image of himself; he was the most troublesome, surly creature imaginable,—always barking at the heels of every horse he came near, and worrying every sheep he could meet with—for which reason both the dog and the boy were disliked by all the neighbourhood.

"One morning his father got up early to go to the alehouse, where he intended to stay till night, as it was a holiday; but before he went out he gave his son some bread and cold meat and sixpence, and told him he might go and divert himself as he would the whole day. The little boy was much pleased with this liberty; and, as it was a very fine morning, he called his dog Tiger to follow him, and began his walk.

"He had not proceeded far before he met a little boy that was driving a flock of sheep towards a gate that he wanted them to enter. 'Pray, master,' said the little boy, 'stand still and keep your dog close to you, for fear you frighten my sheep.' 'Oh yes, to be sure!' answered the ill-natured boy, 'I am to wait here all the morning till you and your sheep have passed, I suppose! Here, Tiger, seize them, boy!' Tiger at this sprang forth into the middle of the flock, barking and biting on every side, and the sheep, in a general consternation, hurried each a separate way. Tiger seemed to enjoy this sport equally with his master; but in the midst of his triumph he happened unguardedly to attack an old ram that had more courage than the rest of the flock; he, instead of running away, faced about, and aimed a blow with his forehead at his enemy, with so much force and dexterity, that he knocked Tiger over and over, and, butting him several times while he was down, obliged him to limp howling away.

"The ill-natured little boy, who was not capable of loving anything, had been much diverted with the trepidation of the sheep; but now he laughed heartily at the misfortune of his dog; and he would have laughed much longer, had not the other little boy, provoked beyond his patience at this treatment thrown a stone at him, which hit him full upon the temples, and almost knocked him down. He immediately began to cry, in concert with his dog, and perceiving a man coming towards them, who he fancied might be the owner of the sheep, he thought it most prudent to escape as speedily as possible.

"But he had scarcely recovered from the smart which the blow had occasioned, before his former mischievous disposition returned, which he determined to gratify to the utmost. He had not gone far before he saw a little girl standing by a stile with a large pot of milk at her feet. 'Pray,' said the little girl, 'help me up with this pot of milk; my mother sent me out to fetch it this morning, and I have brought it above a mile upon my head; but I am so tired that I have been obliged to stop at this stile to rest me; and if I don't return home presently we shall have no pudding to-day, and besides my mother will be very angry with me.' 'What,' said the boy, 'you are to have a pudding to-day, are you, miss?' 'Yes,' said the girl, 'and a fine piece of roast-beef; for there's uncle Will, and uncle John, and grandfather, and all my cousins, to dine with us, and we shall be very merry in the evening, I can assure you; so pray help me up as speedily as possible.' 'That I will, miss,' said the boy; and, taking up the jug, he pretended to fix it upon her head; but as she had hold of it, he gave it a little push, as if he had stumbled, and overturned it upon her. The little girl began to cry violently, but the mischievous boy ran away laughing heartily, and saying, 'Good-by, little miss; give my humble service to uncle Will, and grandfather, and the dear little cousins.'

"This prank encouraged him very much; for he thought he had now certainly escaped without any bad consequences; so he went on applauding his own ingenuity, and came to a green where several little boys were at play. He desired leave to play with them, which they allowed him to do. But he could not be contented long without exerting his evil disposition; so taking an opportunity when it was his turn to fling the ball, instead of flinging it the way he ought to have done, he threw it into a deep muddy ditch. The little boys ran in a great hurry to see what was become of it; and as they were standing together upon the brink, he gave the outermost boy a violent push against his neighbour; he, not being able to resist the violence, tumbled against another, by which means they were all soused into the ditch together. They soon scrambled out, although in a dirty plight, and were going to have punished him for his ill behaviour; but he patted Tiger upon the back, who began snarling and growling in such a manner as made them desist. Thus this mischievous little boy escaped a second time with impunity.

"The next thing that he met with was a poor jackass, feeding very quietly in a ditch. The little boy, seeing that nobody was within sight, thought this was an opportunity of plaguing an animal that was not to be lost; so he went and cut a large bunch of thorns, which he contrived to fix upon the poor beast's tail, and then, setting Tiger at him, he was extremely diverted to see the fright and agony the creature was in. But it did not fare so well with Tiger, who, while he was baying and biting the animal's heels, received so severe a kick upon his forehead, as laid him dead upon the spot. The boy, who had no affection for his dog, left him with the greatest unconcern when he saw what had happened, and, finding himself hungry, sat down by the wayside to eat his dinner.

"He had not been long there before a poor blind man came groping his way out with a couple of sticks. 'Good morning to you, gaffer,' said the boy; 'pray, did you see a little girl come this road, with a basket of eggs upon her head, dressed in a green gown, with a straw hat upon her head?' 'God bless you, master,' said the beggar, 'I am so blind that I can see nothing; I have been blind these twenty years, and they call me poor old blind Richard.'

"Though this poor man was such an object of charity and compassion, yet the little boy determined, as usual, to play him some trick; and, as he was a great liar and deceiver, he spoke to him thus: 'Poor old Richard, I am heartily sorry for you with all my heart; I am just eating my breakfast, and if you will sit down by me I will give you part and feed you myself.' 'Thank you with all my heart,' said the poor man; 'and if you will give me your hand, I will sit by you with great pleasure, my dear, good little master!' The little boy then gave him his hand, and, pretending to direct him, guided him to sit down in a large heap of wet dung that lay by the road-side. 'There,' said he, 'now you are nicely seated, and I will feed you.' So, taking a little in his fingers, he was going to put it into the blind man's mouth; but the man, who now perceived the trick that had been played him, made a sudden snap at his fingers, and, getting them between his teeth, bit them so severely that the wicked boy roared out for mercy, and promised never more to be guilty of such wickedness. At last the blind man, after he had put him to very severe pain, consented to let him go, saying as he went, 'Are you not ashamed, you little scoundrel, to attempt to do hurt to those who have never injured you, and to want to add to the sufferings of those who are already sufficiently miserable? Although you escape now, be assured that, if you do not repent and mend your manners, you will meet with a severe punishment for your bad behaviour.'

"One would think that this punishment should have cured him entirely of his mischievous disposition; but, unfortunately, nothing is so difficult to overcome as bad habits that have been long indulged. He had not gone far before he saw a lame beggar, that just made a shift to support himself by means of a couple of sticks. The beggar asked him to give him something, and the little mischievous boy, pulling out his sixpence, threw it down just before him, as if he intended to make him a present of it; but, while the poor man was stooping with difficulty to pick it up, this wicked little boy knocked the stick away, by which means the beggar fell down upon his face; and then, snatching up the sixpence, the boy ran away, laughing very heartily at the accident.

"This was the last trick this ungracious boy had it in his power to play; for, seeing two men come up to the beggar, and enter into discourse with him, he was afraid of being pursued, and therefore ran as fast as he was able over several fields. At last he came into a lane which led into a farmer's orchard, and as he was preparing to clamber over the fence, a large dog seized him by the leg and held him fast. He cried out in agony of terror, which brought the farmer out, who called the dog off, but seized him very roughly, saying, 'So, sir, you are caught at last, are you? You thought you might come day after day and steal my apples without detection; but it seems you are mistaken, and now you shall receive the punishment you have so long deserved.' The farmer then began to chastise him very severely with a whip he had in his hand, and the boy in vain protested he was innocent, and begged for mercy. At last the farmer asked him who he was, and where he lived; but when he heard his name he cried out, 'What! are you the little rascal that frightened my sheep this morning, by which means several of them are lost; and do you think to escape?' Saying this, he lashed him more severely than before, in spite of all his cries and protestations. At length, thinking he had punished him enough, he turned him out of the orchard, bade him go home, and frighten sheep again if he liked the consequences.

"The little boy slunk away, crying very bitterly (for he had been very severely beaten), and now began to find that no one can long hurt others with impunity; so he determined to go quietly home, and behave better for the future.

"But his sufferings were not yet at an end; for as he jumped down from a stile, he felt himself very roughly seized, and, looking up, found that he was in the power of the lame beggar whom he had thrown upon his face. It was in vain that he now cried, entreated, and begged pardon; the man, who had been much hurt by his fall, thrashed him very severely with his stick, before he would part with him. He now again went on, crying and roaring with pain, but at least expected to escape without further damage. But here he was mistaken; for as he was walking slowly through a lane, just as he turned a corner, he found himself in the middle of the very troop of boys that he had used so ill in the morning. They all set up a shout as soon as they saw their enemy in their power without his dog, and began persecuting him a thousand various ways. Some pulled him by the hair, others pinched him; some whipped his legs with their handkerchiefs, while others covered him with handfuls of dirt. In vain did he attempt to escape; they were still at his heels, and, surrounding him on every side, continued their persecutions. At length, while he was in this disagreeable situation, he happened to come up to the same jackass he had seen in the morning, and, making a sudden spring, jumped upon his back, hoping by these means to escape. The boys immediately renewed their shouts, and the ass, who was frightened at the noise, began galloping with all his might, and presently bore him from the reach of his enemies. But he had but little reason to rejoice at this escape, for he found it impossible to stop the animal, and was every instant afraid of being thrown of and dashed upon the ground. After he had been thus hurried along a considerable time, the ass on a sudden stopped short at the door of a cottage, and began kicking and prancing with so much fury that the little boy was presently thrown to the ground, and broke his leg in the fall. His cries immediately brought the family out, among whom was the very little girl he had used so ill in the morning. But she with the greatest good-nature, seeing him in such a pitiable situation, assisted in bringing him in, and laying him upon the bed. There this unfortunate boy had leisure to recollect himself, and reflect upon his own bad behaviour, which in one day's time had exposed him to such a variety of misfortunes; and he determined with great sincerity, that, if ever he recovered from his present accident, he would be as careful to take every opportunity of doing good, as he had before been to commit every species of mischief."

When the story was ended, Tommy said it was very surprising to see how differently the two little boys fared. The one little boy was good-natured, and therefore everything he met became his friend and assisted him in return; the other, who was ill-natured, made everything his enemy, and therefore he met with nothing but misfortunes and vexations, and nobody seemed to feel any compassion for him, excepting the poor little girl that assisted him at last, which was very kind indeed of her, considering how ill she had been used.

"That is very true, indeed," said Mr Barlow; "nobody is loved in this world unless he loves others and does good to them; and nobody can tell but one time or other he may want the assistance of the meanest and lowest; therefore, every sensible man will behave well to everything around him; he will behave well, because it is his duty to do it, because every benevolent person feels the greatest pleasure in doing good, and even because it is his own interest to make as many friends as possible. No one can tell, however secure his present situation may appear, how soon it may alter, and he may have occasion for the compassion of those who are now infinitely below him. I could show you a story to that purpose, but you have read enough, and therefore you must now go out and use some exercise."

"Oh pray, sir," said Tommy, "do let me hear the story; I think I could now read for ever without being tired." "No," said Mr Barlow; "everything has its turn; to-morrow you shall read, but now we must work in the garden." "Then pray, sir," said Tommy, "may I ask a favour of you?" "Surely," answered Mr Barlow; "if it is proper for you to have, there is nothing can give me a greater pleasure than to grant it." "Why, then," said Tommy, "I have been thinking that a man should know how to do everything in the world." Mr B.—Very right; the more knowledge he acquires the better. T.—And therefore Harry and I are going to build a house. Mr B.—To build a house! Well, and have you laid in a sufficient quantity of brick and mortar? "No, no," said Tommy, smiling; "Harry and I can build houses without brick and mortar." Mr B.—What are they to be made of, then—cards? "Dear sir," answered Tommy, "do you think we are such little children as to want card-houses? No; we are going to build real houses, fit for people to live in. And then, you know, if ever we should be thrown upon a desert coast, as the poor men were, we shall be able to supply ourselves with necessaries till some ship comes to take us away." Mr B.—And if no ship should come, what then? T.—Why, then, we must stay there all our lives, I am afraid. Mr B.—If you wish to prepare yourselves against the event, you are much in the right, for nobody knows what may happen to him in this world. What is it then you want, to make your house? T.—The first thing we want, sir, is wood and a hatchet. Mr B.—Wood you shall have in plenty; but did you ever use a hatchet? T.—No, sir. Mr B.—Then I am afraid to let you have one, because it is a very dangerous kind of tool; and if you are not expert in the use of it you may wound yourself severely. But if you will let me know what you want, I, who am more strong and expert, will take the hatchet and cut down the wood for you. "Thank you, sir," said Tommy; "you are very good to me, indeed." And away Harry and he ran to the copse at the bottom of the garden.

Mr Barlow then went to work, and presently, by Harry's direction, cut down several poles about as thick as a man's wrist, and about eight feet long; these he sharpened at the end, in order to run into the ground; and so eager were the two little boys at the business, that, in a very short time, they had transported them all to the bottom of the garden; and Tommy entirely forgot he was a gentleman, and worked with the greatest eagerness.

"Now," said Mr Barlow, "where will you fix your house?" "Here, I think," answered Tommy, "just at the bottom of this hill, because it will be warm and sheltered."

So Harry took the stakes and began to thrust them into the ground at about the distance of a foot, and in this manner he enclosed a piece of ground, which was about ten feet long and eight feet wide—leaving an opening in the middle, of three feet wide, for a door. After this was done they gathered up the brushwood that was cut off, and by Harry's direction they interwove it between the poles in such a manner as to form a compact kind of fence. This labour, as may be imagined, took them up several days; however, they worked at it very hard every day, and every day the work advanced, which filled Tommy's heart with so much pleasure that he thought himself the happiest little boy in the universe.

But this employment did not make Tommy unmindful of the story which Mr Barlow had promised him; it was to this purport:—

"THE STORY OF THE GRATEFUL TURK."

"It is too much to be lamented that different nations frequently make bloody wars with each other; and when they take any of their enemies prisoners, instead of using them well, and restoring them to liberty, they confine them in prisons, or sell them as slaves. The enmity that there is often between many of the Italian states (particularly the Venetians) and the Turks is sufficiently known.

"It once happened that a Venetian ship had taken many of the Turks prisoners, and according to the barbarous customs I have mentioned, these unhappy men had been sold to different persons in the city. By accident, one of the slaves lived opposite to the house of a rich Venetian, who had an only son of about the age of twelve years. It happened that this little boy used frequently to stop as he passed near Hamet (for that was the name of the slave), and gaze at him very attentively. Hamet, who remarked in the face of the child the appearance of good-nature and compassion, used always to salute him with the greatest courtesy, and testified the greatest pleasure in his company. At length the little boy took such a fancy to the slave that he used to visit him several times in the day, and brought him such little presents as he had it in his power to make, and which he thought would be of use to his friend.

"But though Hamet seemed always to take the greatest delight in the innocent caresses of his little friend, yet the child could not help remarking that Hamet was frequently extremely sorrowful, and he often surprised him on a sudden when tears were trickling down his face, although he did his utmost to conceal them. The little boy was at length so much affected with the repetition of this sight that he spoke of it to his father, and begged him, if he had it in his power, to make poor Hamet happy. The father, who was extremely fond of his son, and besides had observed that he seldom requested anything which was not generous and humane, determined to see the Turk himself and talk to him.

"Accordingly he went to him the next day, and, observing him for some time in silence, was struck with the extraordinary appearance of mildness and honesty which his countenance discovered. At length he said to him, 'Are you that Hamet of whom my son is so fond, and of whose gentleness and courtesy I have so often heard him talk?' 'Yes,' said the Turk, 'I am that unfortunate Hamet, who have now been for three years a captive; during that space of time your son (if you are his father) is the only human being that seems to have felt any compassion for my sufferings; therefore, I must confess, he is the only object to which I am attached in this barbarous country; and night and morning I pray that Power, who is equally the God of Turks and Christians, to grant him every blessing he deserves, and to preserve him from all the miseries I suffer.'

"'Indeed, Hamet,' said the merchant, 'he is much obliged to you, although, from his present circumstances, he does not appear much exposed to danger. But tell me, for I wish to do you good, in what can I assist you? for my son informs me that you are the prey of continual regret and sorrow.'

"'Is it wonderful,' answered the Turk, with a glow of generous indignation that suddenly animated his countenance, 'is it wonderful that I should pine in silence, and mourn my fate, who am bereft of the first and noblest present of nature—my liberty?' 'And yet,' answered the Venetian, 'how many thousands of our nation do you retain in fetters?'

"'I am not answerable,' said the Turk, 'for the cruelty of my countrymen, more than you are for the barbarity of yours. But as to myself, I have never practised the inhuman custom of enslaving my fellow creatures; I have never spoiled the Venetian merchants of their property to increase my riches; I have always respected the rights of nature, and therefore it is the more severe.'——Here a tear started from his eye, and wetted his manly cheek; instantly however, he recollected himself, and folding his arm upon his bosom, and gently bowing his head, he added, 'God is good, and man must submit to his decrees.'

"The Venetian was affected with this appearance of manly fortitude, and said, 'Hamet, I pity your sufferings, and may perhaps be able to relieve them. What would you do to regain your liberty?' 'What would I do!' answered Hamet; 'by the eternal Majesty of Heaven, I would confront every pain and danger that can appal the heart of man!' 'Nay,' answered the merchant, 'you will not be exposed to a trial. The means of your deliverance are certain, provided your courage does not belie your appearance.' 'Name them! name them!' cried the impatient Hamet; 'place death before me in every horrid shape, and if I shrink——'

"'Patience,' answered the merchant, 'we shall be observed; but hear me attentively. I have in this city an inveterate foe, who has heaped upon me every injury which can most bitterly sting the heart of man. This man is brave as he is haughty; and I must confess that the dread of his strength and valour has hitherto deterred me from resenting his insults as they deserve. Now, Hamet, your look, your form, your words, convince me that you were born for manly daring. Take this dagger; as soon as the shades of night involve the city I will myself conduct you to the place where you may at once revenge your friend and regain your freedom.'

"At this proposal, scorn and shame flashed from the kindling eye of Hamet, and passion for a considerable time deprived him of the power of utterance; at length he lifted his arm as high as his chains would permit, and cried, with an indignant tone, 'Mighty prophet! and are these the wretches to whom you permit your faithful votaries to be enslaved! Go, base Christian, and know that Hamet would not stoop to the vile trade of an assassin for all the wealth of Venice! no! not to purchase the freedom of all his race!'

"At these words the merchant, without seeming much abashed, told him he was sorry he had offended him; but that he thought freedom had been dearer to him than he found it was. 'However,' added he, as he turned his back, 'you will reflect upon my proposal, and perhaps by to-morrow you may change your mind.' Hamet disdained to answer; and the merchant went his way.

"The next day, however, he returned in company with his son, and mildly accosted Hamet thus: 'The abruptness of the proposal I yesterday made you might perhaps astonish you, but I am now come to discourse the matter more calmly with you, and I doubt not, when you have heard my reasons——'

"'Christian!' interrupted Hamet, with a severe but composed countenance, 'cease at length to insult the miserable with proposals more shocking than even these chains. If thy religion permit such acts as those, know that they are execrable and abominable to the soul of every Mohammedan; therefore, from this moment, let us break off all further intercourse and be strangers to each other.'

"'No,' answered the merchant, flinging himself into the arms of Hamet, 'let us from this moment be more closely linked than ever! Generous man, whose virtues may at once disarm and enlighten thy enemies! Fondness for my son first made me interested in thy fate; but from the moment that I saw thee yesterday I determined to set thee free; therefore, pardon me this unnecessary trial of thy virtue, which has only raised thee higher in my esteem. Francisco has a soul which is as averse to deeds of treachery and blood as even Hamet himself. From this moment, generous man, thou art free; thy ransom is already paid, with no other obligation than that of remembering the affection of this thy young and faithful friend; and perhaps hereafter, when thou seest an unhappy Christian groaning in Turkish fetters, thy generosity may make thee think of Venice.'

"It is impossible to describe the ecstasies or the gratitude of Hamet at this unexpected deliverance; I will not, therefore, attempt to repeat what he said to his benefactors; I will only add that he was that day set free, and Francisco embarked him on board a ship which was going to one of the Grecian islands, took leave of him with the greatest tenderness, and forced him to accept a purse of gold to pay his expenses. Nor was it without the greatest regret that Hamet parted from his young friend, whose disinterested kindness had thus procured his freedom; he embraced him with an agony of tenderness, wept over him at parting, and prayed for every blessing upon his head.

"About six months after this transaction a sudden fire burst forth in the house of this generous merchant. It was early in the morning, when sleep is the most profound, and none of the family perceived it till almost the whole building was involved in flames. The frightened servants had just time to waken the merchant and hurry him down stairs, and the instant he was down, the staircase itself gave way and sunk with a horrid crash into the midst of the fire.

"But if Francisco congratulated himself for an instant upon his escape, it was only to resign himself immediately after to the most deep despair, when he found, upon inquiry, that his son, who slept in an upper apartment, had been neglected in the general tumult, and was yet amidst the flames. No words can describe the father's agony; he would have rushed headlong into the fire, but was restrained by his servants; he then raved in an agony of grief, and offered half his fortune to the intrepid man who would risk his life to save his child. As Francisco was known to be immensely rich, several ladders were in an instant raised, and several daring spirits, incited by the vast reward, attempted the adventure. The violence of the flames, however, which burst forth at every window, together with the ruins that fell on every side, drove them all back; and the unfortunate youth, who now appeared upon the battlements, stretching out his arms and imploring aid, seemed to be destined to certain destruction.

"The unhappy father now lost all perception, and sunk down in a state of insensibility, when, in this dreadful moment of general suspense and agony, a man rushed through the opening crowd, mounted the tallest of the ladders with an intrepidity that showed he was resolved to succeed or perish, and instantly disappeared. A sudden gust of smoke and flame burst forth immediately after, which made the people imagine he was lost; when, on a sudden, they beheld him emerge again with the child in his arms, and descend the ladder without any material damage. A universal shout of applause now resounded to the skies; but what words can give an adequate idea of the father's feelings, when, on recovering his senses, he found his darling miraculously preserved, and safe within his arms?

"After the first effusions of his tenderness were over, he asked for his deliverer, and was shown a man of a noble stature, but dressed in mean attire, and his features were so begrimed with smoke and filth that it was impossible to distinguish them. Francisco, however, accosted him with courtesy, and, presenting him with a purse of gold, begged he would accept of that for the present, and that the next day he should receive to the utmost of his promised reward. 'No, generous merchant,' answered the stranger, 'I do not sell my blood.'

"'Gracious heavens!' cried the merchant, 'sure I should know that voice?—It is——' 'Yes,' exclaimed the son, throwing himself into the arms of his deliverer, 'it is my Hamet!'

"It was indeed Hamet, who stood before them in the same mean attire which he had worn six months before, when the first generosity of the merchant had redeemed him from slavery. Nothing could equal the astonishment and gratitude of Francisco; but as they were then surrounded by a large concourse of people, he desired Hamet to go with him to the house of one of his friends, and when they were alone he embraced him tenderly, and asked by what extraordinary chance he had thus been enslaved a second time, adding a kind of reproach for his not informing him of his captivity.

"'I bless God for that captivity,' answered Hamet, 'since it has given me an opportunity of showing that I was not altogether undeserving of your kindness, and of preserving the life of that dear youth, that I value a thousand times beyond my own. But it is now fit that my generous patron should be informed of the whole truth. Know, then, that when the unfortunate Hamet was taken by your galleys, his aged father shared his captivity—it was his fate which so often made me shed those tears which first attracted the notice of your son; and when your unexampled bounty had set me free, I flew to find the Christian who had purchased him. I represented to him that I was young and vigorous, while he was aged and infirm; I added, too, the gold which I had received from your bounty; in a word, I prevailed upon the Christian to send back my father in that ship which was intended for me, without acquainting him with the means of his freedom; since that time I have staid here to discharge the debt of nature and gratitude, a willing slave——'"

At this part of the story, Harry, who had with difficulty restrained himself before, burst into such a fit of crying, and Tommy himself was so much affected, that Mr Barlow told them they had better leave off for the present and go to some other employment. They therefore went into the garden to resume the labour of their house, but found, to their unspeakable regret, that during their absence an accident had happened which had entirely destroyed all their labours; a violent storm of wind and rain had risen that morning, which, blowing full against the walls of the newly-constructed house, had levelled it with the ground. Tommy could scarcely refrain from crying when he saw the ruins lying around; but Harry, who bore the loss with more composure, told him not to mind it, for it could easily be repaired, and they would build it stronger the next time.

Harry then went up to the spot, and after examining it some time, told Tommy that he believed he had found out the reason of their misfortune. "What is it?" said Tommy. "Why," said Harry, "it is only because we did not drive these stakes, which are to bear the whole weight of our house, far enough into the ground; and, therefore, when the wind blew against the flat side of it with so much violence, it could not resist. And now I remember to have seen the workman, when they begin a building, dig a considerable way into the ground to lay the foundation fast; and I should think that, if we drove these stakes a great way into the ground, it would produce the same effect, and we should have nothing to fear from any future storms."

Mr Barlow then came into the garden, and the two boys showed him their misfortune, and asked him whether he did not think that driving the stakes further in would prevent such an accident for the future. Mr Barlow told them he thought it would; and that, as they were too short to reach to the top of the stakes, he would assist them. He then went and brought a wooden mallet, with which he struck the tops of the stakes, and drove them so fast into the ground that there was no longer any danger of their being shaken by the weather. Harry and Tommy then applied themselves with so much assiduity to their work that they in a very short time had repaired all the damage, and advanced it as far as it had been before.

The next thing that was necessary to be done, was putting on a roof, for hitherto they had constructed nothing but the walls. For this purpose they took several long poles, which they had laid across their building where it was most narrow, and upon these they placed straw in considerable quantities, so that they now imagined they had constructed a house that would completely screen them from the weather. But in this, unfortunately, they were again mistaken; for a very violent shower of rain coming just as they had finished their building, they took shelter under it, and remarked for some time, with infinite pleasure, how dry and comfortable it kept them; but at last the straw that covered it being completely soaked through, and the water having no vent to run off, by reason of the flatness of the roof, the rain began to penetrate in considerable quantities.

For some time Harry and Tommy bore the inconvenience, but it increased so much that they were soon obliged to leave it and seek for shelter in the house. When they were thus secured, they began again to consider the affair of the house, and Tommy said that it surely must be because they had not put straw enough upon it. "No," said Harry, "I think that cannot be the reason; I rather imagine that it must be owing to our roof lying so flat; for I have observed that all houses that I have ever seen have their roofs in a shelving posture, by which means the wet continually runs off from them and falls to the ground; whereas ours, being quite flat, detained almost all the rain that fell upon it, which must necessarily soak deeper and deeper into the straw, till it penetrated quite through."

They therefore agreed to remedy this defect; and for this purpose they took several poles of an equal length, the one end of which they fastened to the side of the house, and let the other two ends meet in the middle, by which means they formed a roof exactly like that which we commonly see upon buildings; they also took several poles, which they tied across the others, to keep them firm in their places, and give the roof additional strength; and lastly, they covered the whole with straw or thatch; and for fear the thatch should be blown away, they stuck several pegs in different places, and put small pieces of stick crosswise from peg to peg, to keep the straw in its place. When this was done they found they had a very tolerable house; only the sides, being formed of brushwood alone, did not sufficiently exclude the wind. To remedy this inconvenience, Harry, who was chief architect, procured some clay, and mixing it up with water, to render it sufficiently soft, he daubed it all over the walls, both within and without, by which means the wind was excluded and the house rendered much warmer than before.