given you better lessons; if that is the case, you will have great reason to rejoice that you have changed so much for the better.
Tommy.—No, sir, no; I never thought them either good or wise, for they know nothing but how to dress their hair and buckle their shoes; but they persuaded me that it was necessary to be polite, and talked to me so often upon the subject, that I could not help believing them.
Mr Barlow.—I am glad to hear that; it is necessary for everybody to be polite; they therefore, I suppose, instructed you to be more obliging and civil in your manners than ever you were before. Instead of doing you any hurt, this will be the greatest improvement you can receive.
Tommy.—No, sir, quite the contrary. Instead of teaching me to be civil and obliging, they have made me ruder and worse behaved than ever I was before.
Mr Barlow.—If that is the case, I fear these fine young gentlemen and ladies undertook to teach you more than they understood themselves.
Tommy.—Indeed, sir, I am of the same opinion myself. But I did not think so then, and therefore I did whatever I observed them do, and talked in the same manner as I heard them talk. They used to be always laughing at Harry Sandford, and I grew so foolish that I did not choose to keep company with him any longer.
Mr Barlow.—That was a pity, because I am convinced he really loves you. However, it is of no great consequence, for he has employment enough at home; and however ingenious you may be, I do not think that he will learn how to manage his land, or
raise food, from your conversation. It will therefore be better for him to converse with farmers, and leave you to the society of gentlemen. Indeed, this I know has always been his taste; and had not your father pressed him very much to accompany you home, he would have liked much better to have avoided the visit. However, I will inform him that you have gained other friends, and advise him for the future to avoid your company.
Tommy.—Oh, sir! I did not think you could be so cruel. I love Harry Sandford better than any other boy in the world; and I shall never be happy till he forgives me all my bad behaviour, and converses with me again as he used to do.
Mr Barlow.—But then, perhaps, you may lose the acquaintance of all those polite young gentlemen and ladies.