"Tommy," said Mr Merton, with a kind of contemptuous smile, "why should you believe that the hearing of a single story would change the characters of all your late friends, when neither the good instructions you have been so long receiving from Mr Barlow, nor the intimacy you have had with Harry, were sufficient to restrain your impetuous temper, or prevent you from treating him in the shameful manner you have done?"
Tommy appeared very much abashed with his father's rebuke. He hung down his head in silence a considerable time; at length he faintly said, "Oh,
sir, I have indeed acted very ill; I have rendered myself unworthy the affection of all my best friends; but do not, pray do not give me up entirely. You shall see how I will behave for the future; and if ever I am guilty of the same faults again, I consent that you shall abandon me for ever." Saying this, he silently stole out of the room, as if intent upon some extraordinary resolution. His father observed his motions, and smiling, said to Mr Barlow, "What can this
portend? This boy is changeable as a weathercock; every blast whirls him round and round upon his centre, nor will he ever fix, I fear, in any direction." "At least," replied Mr Barlow, "you have the greatest reason to rejoice in his present impressions, which are good and estimable; and I fear it is the lot of most human beings to exhaust almost every species of error before they fix in truth and virtue."
Tommy now entered the room, but with a remarkable change in his dress and manner. He had combed the powder out of his hair, and demolished the elegance of his curls; he had divested his dress of every appearance of finery; and even his massy and ponderous buckles, so long the delight of his heart and the wonder of his female friends, were taken from his shoes, and replaced by a pair of the plainest form and appearance. In this habiliment he appeared so totally changed from what he was, that even his mother, who had lately become a little sparing of her observations, could not help exclaiming, "What, in the name of wonder, has the boy been doing now? Why, Tommy, I protest you have made yourself a perfect fright, and you look more like a ploughboy than a young gentleman."
"Mamma," answered Tommy, gravely, "I am now only what I ought always to have been. Had I been contented with this dress before, I never should have imitated such a parcel of coxcombs as you have lately had at your house, nor pretended to admire Miss Matilda's music, which, I own, tired me as much as Harry, and had almost set me asleep; nor should I have exposed myself at the play and the ball; and, what is worst of all, I should have avoided all my shameful behaviour to Harry at the bull-baiting. But from this time I shall apply myself to the study of nothing but reason and philosophy, and therefore I have bid adieu to dress and finery for ever."
It was with great difficulty that the gentlemen could refrain from laughing at Tommy's harangue, delivered with infinite seriousness and solemnity; they, however, concealed their emotions, and encouraged him to persevere in such a laudable resolution; but as the night was now pretty far advanced, the whole family retired to bed.
The next morning early, Tommy arose, and dressed himself with his newly-adopted simplicity, and, as soon as breakfast was over, prevailed with Mr Barlow to accompany him to Harry Sandford's; but he did not forget to take with him the lamb, which he had caressed and fed with constant assiduity ever since he had so valiantly rescued him from his devouring enemy. As they approached the house, the first object which Tommy distinguished was his little friend at some distance, who was driving his father's sheep along the common. At this sight his impetuosity could no longer be restrained, and, springing forward with all his speed, he arrived
in an instant panting and out of breath, and incapable of speaking. Harry, who knew his friend, and plainly perceived the disposition with which he approached, met him with open arms, so that the reconciliation was begun and completed in a moment; and Mr Barlow, who now arrived with the lamb, had the pleasure of seeing his little pupils mutually giving and receiving every unaffected mark of the warmest affection.
"Harry," said Mr Barlow, "I bring you a little friend who is sincerely penitent for his offences, and comes to own the faults he has committed." "That I am indeed," said Tommy, a little recovered, and able to speak; "but I have behaved so ill, and been such an ungrateful fellow, that I am afraid Harry will never be able to forgive me." "Indeed, indeed," said Harry, "there you do me the greatest injustice, for I have already forgotten everything but your former kindness and affection." "And I," answered Tommy, "will never forget how ill, how ungratefully I have used you, nor the goodness with which you now receive me." Tommy then recollected his lamb, and presented it to his friend, while Mr Barlow told him the story of its rescue, and the heroism exerted in its defence. Harry seemed to receive equal pleasure from the restoration of his favourite, and the affection Tommy had shown in its preservation; and, taking him by the hand, he led him into a small but neat and convenient house, where he was most cordially welcomed by Harry's family.