Mr. Mansfield. Perhaps he did not like punishment; but he liked the trouble of avoiding it still less. Indeed, after a smart caning, he would sometimes sit down to his book, and learn as much in half an hour as most of us could in a whole one. His being able to do so, as our good master used to say, made him so much the more inexcusable. “If, Maddox, you were dull by nature, and could not learn,” I remember his telling him one day, when the boy was crying, and begging not to be flogged, “I should pity you; and, as long as you did your best, should never be angry: but you have really a good understanding, and this idleness is unpardonable, and you need not hope to escape correction.” Correction, however, and encouragement, were equally thrown away upon Maddox; and he left school at fifteen, after having passed a miserable time, scolded by the masters and derided by the boys.
Arthur. What became of him then, grandpapa?
Mr. Mansfield. His father took him home, intending to bring him up to farming: but he found he could make nothing of him; so he put him apprentice to a brewer in a good way of business.
However, Harry still continued idle, and learned nothing, so that when he was out of his time, his master was very glad to get rid of so useless a hand, and declared he would have nothing further to say to him; notwithstanding he was then in want of a partner, and old Mr. Maddox, the father, had offered to advance a considerable sum, if he would give him a share of the business.
Some time after this, he married; and his father then set him up in a brewery by himself, and gave him all that was necessary to begin trade with.
His success, however, was just what might have been expected. He did not like to give himself trouble; and his beer was so bad, that nobody would buy it. In short, he lost all his customers, and ran into debt; so that every thing he had was taken away to pay his creditors.
The kind father once more received his son, with his wife and family, into his own house; and instead of being angry, he tried to console him for his misfortunes, by telling him, that as long as he had a shilling in the world he should share it with him; and that, by industry and frugality, they might yet do very well. One would have thought that such great kindness, and the distresses he had brought upon himself, would have had some effect on the mind of young Maddox; and indeed they had: for a short time, he went on pretty well, but he soon relapsed into his former habits of indolence. As long, however, as his father lived, he did not know what it was to want. It is true, he was accustomed to lie in bed till noon, and then to doze in an arm chair the greatest part of the day. But his father was always up before the dawn, and continued to attend to the concerns of his farm till after the sun was set; for he found that much additional industry was required, to enable him to support such a large increase to his household. Harry at length lost his excellent parent, and had the misfortune, not long after, to bury his wife.
Charles. Ah, poor Maddox! How badly off he must have been then, grandpapa!
Mr. Mansfield. He was, indeed, my dear. All good management was at an end, both in the house and in the fields. He took no care of his children himself, nor did he provide any body to look after them for him. His sons, in consequence of this neglect, grew up very wild young men. They were always in company with the most worthless fellows in the neighbourhood; and at last one of them ran away to sea, and never was heard of more. The youngest girl fell into an ill state of health, and perished from want of care and nursing. The eldest daughter, mother to the little Peggy whom you saw at the cottage, was the only one of the children that grew up to be a comfort to herself, or to her family. She married at a very early age, but, unfortunately for Peggy, died some time ago.
Arthur. So poor Peggy has no mother! What a sad thing for her!