"Nonsense!" replied James; "the good of the family! you mean her own good, and her own respectability. She would like to see a fine carriage at her door, to make her look genteel; how can you be bamboozled with such stuff, Judy?"
Mr. Burke seemed to sit uneasily whilst his children were going on in this way. He was thinking how all this would appear before Mr. Fairchild—that is, he was listening for the moment with Mr. Fairchild's ears.
When we keep low company we are apt to listen with their ears; and when we get into good company we do the same: we think how this will sound, and that will sound to them, and we are shocked for them, at things which at another time we should not heed; this is one way in which we are hurt by bad company, and improved by good.
Mr. Burke had never thought his children so ill-bred as when he heard them, that morning, with Mr. Fairchild's ears; and as he was afraid of making things worse by checking them, he invited him to walk out with him, after he saw that he had done his breakfast, to look at a famous field of corn near the house.
When this had been visited the gig was ready, and they set out, leaving Henry at the farm; and it was very good for Henry to be left, for he had an opportunity of seeing more that morning than he had ever yet seen of the sad effects of young people being left to take their own way.
The Unruly Family
After Mr. Fairchild was gone out with Mr. Burke, the young people, who still sat round the table, all began to speak and make a noise at once. The two youngest were crying for sugar, or ham, or more butter. Tom was screaming every moment, "I am going to the river a-fishing—who comes with me?" looking at the same time daringly at his mother, and expecting her to say, "No, Tom; you know that is forbidden;" for the river was very dangerous for anglers, and Mr. Burke had given his orders that his boys should never go down to it unless he was with them.