Thus was the first day passed at Mr Merton's, very little to the satisfaction of Harry; the next, and the next after, were only repetitions of the same scene. The little gentry, whose tastes and manners were totally different from his, had now imbibed a perfect contempt for Harry, and it was with great difficulty that they condescended to treat him even with common civility. In this _laudable_ behaviour they were very much confirmed by Master Compton and Master Mash. Master Compton was reckoned a very genteel boy, though all his gentility consisted in a pair of buckles so big that they almost crippled him; in a slender emaciated figure, and a look of consummate impudence. He had almost finished his education at a public school, where he had learned every vice and folly which is commonly taught at such places, without the least improvement either of his character or his understanding. Master Mash was the son of a neighbouring gentleman, who had considerably impaired his fortune by an inordinate love of horse-racing. Having been from his infancy accustomed to no other conversation than about winning and losing money, he had acquired the idea that, to bet successfully, was the summit of all human ambition. He had been almost brought up in the stable, and therefore had imbibed the greatest interest about horses; not from any real affection for that noble animal, but merely because he considered them as engines for the winning of money. He too was now improving his talents by a public education, and longed impatiently for the time when he should be set free from all restraint, and allowed to display the superiority of his genius at Ascot and Newmarket.
These two young gentlemen had conceived the most violent dislike to Harry, and lost no occasion of saying or doing everything they had in their power to mortify him. To Tommy, they were in the contrary extreme, and omitted no opportunity of rendering themselves agreeable to him. Nor was it long before their forward vivacious manners, accompanied with a knowledge of many of those gay scenes, which acted forcibly upon Tommy's imagination, began to render their conversation highly agreeable. They talked to him about public diversions, about celebrated actresses, about parties of pleasure, and parties of mischief. Tommy began to feel himself introduced to a new train of ideas, and a wider range of conduct; he began to long for the time when he should share in the glories of robbing orchards, or insulting passengers with impunity; but when he heard that little boys, scarcely bigger than himself, had often joined in the glorious project of forming open rebellions against their masters, or of disturbing a whole audience at a playhouse, he panted for the time when he might have a chance of sharing in the fame of such achievements. By degrees he lost all regard for Mr Barlow, and all affection for his friend Harry. At first, indeed, he was shocked at hearing Mr Barlow mentioned with disrespect, but becoming by degrees more callous to every good impression he at last took infinite pleasure in seeing Master Mash (who, though destitute of either wit or genius, had a great taste for mimicry) take off the _parson_ in the middle of his _sermon_.