UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
 00022092995 
 

Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/underlilacsOalco 
 
UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
%onm jE. mcott^s Wxitims. 
 
 THE LITTLE WOMEN SERIES. 
 
 LITTLE WOMEN; or Meg. Jo, Beth, 
 
 and Amy. With Illustrations. i6mo. 
 
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 LITTLE HEN. Life at Plumfield with 
 
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 JO'S BOYS AND HOW THEY 
 TURNED OUT. A Sequel to " Little 
 Men." With new Portrait of Author. 
 i6mo. $1.50. 
 
 The above eight volumes, uniformly bound in cloth, gilt, in box, $12.00. 
 
 THE SP!NNINQ=WHEEL SERIES. 
 
 Wit 
 
 AN OLD=FASHIONED GIRL. 
 
 Illustrations. i6mo. 1^1.50. 
 
 EIGHT COUSINS ; or, The Aunt-Hill. 
 Illustrated. i6mo. $1.50. 
 
 ROSE IN BLOOM. A Sequel to " Eight 
 Cousins." Illustrated. i6mo. $1.50. 
 
 UNDER THE LILACS. With Illustra- 
 tions. i6mo. $1.50. 
 
 JACK AND JILL. A Village Story. 
 Illustrated. i6mo. $1.50. 
 
 SPINNING=WHEEL STORIES. With 
 
 twelve initial Illustrations. i6mo. $1.25. 
 SILVER PITCHERS: and Independ- 
 ence. i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 PROVERB STORIES. i6mo. $1.25. 
 A GARLAND FOR GIRLS. With 
 
 Illustrations by JESSIE McDera\OTT. 
 
 i6mo. $1.25. 
 
 The above four volumes, uniformly bound in cloth, gilt, in box, ^5.00. 
 
 AUNT JO'S SCRAP BAG. 
 
 MY BOYS. Illustrated. i6mo. $1.00 
 SHAWL=STRAPS. 
 
 lustrated. i6mo. 
 $1.00. 
 CUPID AND CHOW=CHOW. Illus- 
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 MY GIRLS. Illustrated. i6mo. $1.00. 
 
 JIMMY'S CRUISE IN THE PINA = 
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 AN OLD=FASHiONED THANKS- 
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 in box, S6.00. 
 
 Three volumes. Each, Si.oo. 
 
 The above six volumes, uniformly bound in cloth, gilt 
 
 LULU'S LIBRARY. 
 
 The set uniformly bound in cloth, gilt, in box, $3.00. 
 " Little Women Series.'' 
 MOODS. A Novel. i6mo. I1.50. 
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 NOVELS, ETC. Uniform with 
 
 HOSPITAL SKETCHES, and Camp 
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 WORK : A Story of Experience. Illus- 
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 ALCOTT. Louisa 
 
 AND A WHISPER IN THE DARK. 
 
 i6mo. $1.50. 
 
 COMIC TRAGEDIES. Written by "Jo" 
 and "Meg," and acted by the "Little 
 Women," with a Foreword by "Meg." 
 Portraits, etc. i6mo. $1.50. 
 
 L5FE OF MISS 
 
 AIay Alcott : Ker Life, Letters, and 
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 LITTLE WOMEN. Illustrated edition. 
 
 Embellished with nearly two hundred Characteristic Illustrations from Original De- 
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 nettle, J^rolMit, antr (^tompans. J^uiJltsijcts, 
 
 254 Washington Street, Boston. 
 
Ben and Sancho. 
 
 " Only don't be hard on Sanch ; he 's been real good to me, and we 're 
 fond of one another." — Page 22. 
 
Under the Lilacs. 
 
 BY 
 
 LOUISA M. ALCOTT, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " LITTLE WOMEN," " AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL," " LITTLE MEN,' 
 
 "eight cousins," "rose IN BLOOM," " JACK AND JILL," 
 
 " HOSPITAL SKETCHES," "wORK," "SILVER PITCHERS," 
 
 'aunt jo's SCRAP-BAG." 
 
 %mi s^iiMtmmx 
 
 BOSTON: 
 LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. 
 
 1900. 
 
Copyright, 1S78, 
 By Louisa ]\I. Alcott 
 
 University Press: 
 John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. 
 
TO 
 
 EMMA, IDA, GAEL, AND LINA, 
 
 ^ber tlie Sea, 
 
 THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED 
 BT THEIR NEW FRIEND AND SISTER, 
 
 L. M. A 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEB E kaE 
 
 I. A Mysterious Dog ] 
 
 n. Where they found his Master ... 12 
 
 III. Ben 20 
 
 IV. His Story 29 
 
 Y. Ben gets a Place 37 
 
 VI. A Circulating Library 46 
 
 Vn. New Friends trot in 53 
 
 Vin. Miss Celia's Man 63 
 
 IX. A Happy Tea 73 
 
 X. A Heavy Trouble 86 
 
 XI. Sunday. 94 
 
 Xn. Good Times 117 
 
 Xni. Somebody runs away 132 
 
 XIV. Somebody gets lost 147 
 
 XV. Ben's Ride 167 
 
 XVI. Detective Thornton 184 
 
 XVn. Betty's Bravery 200 
 
 XVin, Bows AND Arrows 217 
 
 XIX. Speaking Pieces 229 
 
 XX. Ben's Birthday 243 
 
 XXI. Cupid's Last Appearance 255 
 
 XXII. A Boy's Bargain 268 
 
 XXIIL Somebody Comes 280 
 
 XXIV. The Great Gate is opened 292 
 
UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 A MYSTERIOUS DOG, 
 
 THE elm-tree avenue was all overgrown, the great 
 gate was never unlocked, and the old house had 
 been shut up for several years. Yet voices were heard 
 about the place, the hlacs nodded over the high wall 
 as if they said, " We could tell fine secrets if we chose," 
 and the mullein outside the gate made haste to reach 
 the keyhole, that it might peep in and see what waa 
 going on. 
 
 If it had suddenly grown up like a magic beanstalk, 
 and looked in oh a certain June day, it would have seen 
 a droll but pleasant sight, for somebody evidently waa 
 going to have a party. 
 
 From the gate to the porch went a wide walk, paved 
 with smooth slabs of dark stone, and bordered with the 
 tall bushes which met overhead, making a green roof. 
 All sorts of neglected flowers and wild weeds grew 
 between their stems, covering the walls of this summer 
 parlor with the prettiest tapestry. A board, propped on 
 two blocks of wood, stood in the middle of the walk, 
 covered with a little plaid shawl much the worse for 
 wear, and on it a miniature tea-service was set forth 
 
 1 A 
 
2 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 with great elegance. To be sure, the tea-pot had lost 
 its spout, the creaui-jug its handle, the sugar-bowl its 
 cover, and the caps and plates were all more or less 
 cracked or nicked ; but polite persons would not take 
 notice of these trifling deficiencies, and none but polite 
 persons were invited to this party. 
 
 On either side of the porch was a seat, and here a 
 somewhat remarkable sight would have been revealed to 
 an}' inquisitive Qje peering through the aforesaid ke}^- 
 hole. Upon the left-hand seat lay seven dolls, upon the 
 right-hand seat la}' six ; and so varied were the expres- 
 sions of their countenances, owing to fractures, dirt, 
 age, and other afflictions, that one would \evy naturally 
 have thought this a doll's hospital, and these the patients 
 waiting for their tea. This, however, would have been 
 a sad mistake ; for if the wind had lifted the coverings 
 laid over them, it would have disclosed the fact that all 
 were in full dress, and merely reposing before the feast 
 should begin. 
 
 There was another interesting feature of the scene 
 which would have puzzled an}' but those well acquainted 
 with the manners and customs of dolls. A fourteenth 
 rag baby, with a china head, hung b}^ her neck from the 
 rusty knocker in the middle of the door. A sprig of 
 white and one of purple lilac nodded over her, a dress of 
 3'ellow calico, richly trimmed with red-flannel scallops, 
 shrouded her slender form, a garland of small flowers 
 crowned her gloss}' curls, and a pair of blue boots 
 touched toes in the friendliest, if not the most graceful, 
 manner. An emotion of grief, as well as of surprise, 
 might well have thrilled an}' youthful breast at such a 
 spectacle ; for why, oh ! why, was this resplendent dolly 
 
Bab and Betty. 
 
 ' Presently voices were heard approaching, and through the arch which 
 led to a side path came two httle girls." — Page 3. 
 
A MYSTERIOUS DOG. 3 
 
 hung up there to be stared at by thirteen of her kindred? 
 Was she a criminal, the sight of whose execution threw 
 them flat upon their backs in speechless horror? Or 
 was she an idol, to be adored in that humble posture ? 
 Neither, my friends. She was blonde Belinda, set, or 
 rather hung, aloft, in the place of honor, for this was 
 her seventh birthday, and a superb ball was about to 
 celebrate the great event. 
 
 All were evidently awaiting a summons to the festive 
 board ; but such was the perfect breeding of these 
 dolls, that not a single eye out of the whole twenty- 
 seven (Dutch Hans had lost one of the black beads from, 
 his worsted countenance) turned for a moment toward 
 the table, or so much as winked, as they lay in decorous 
 rows, gazing with mute admiration at Belinda. She, 
 unable to repress the joy and pride which swelled her 
 sawdust bosom till the seams gaped, gave an occasional 
 bounce as the wind waved her yellow skirts, or made 
 the blue boots dance a sort of jig upon the door. Hang 
 ing was evidently not a painful operation, for she smiled 
 contentedly, and looked as if the red ribbon around her 
 neck was not uncomfortably tight; therefore, if slow 
 suflbcation suited her^ who else had any right to com- 
 plain? So a pleasing silence reigned, not even broken 
 by a snore from Dinah, the toj) of whose turban alone 
 was visible above the coverlet, or a cry from baby Jane, 
 though her bare feet stuck, out in a way that would have 
 produced shrieks from a less well-trained infant. 
 
 Presently voices were heard approaching, and through 
 the arch which led to a side-path came two little girls, 
 one carr3ing a small pitcher, the other proudly bearing 
 a basket covered with a napkin. They looked like 
 
4 UNDER THE LILACS 
 
 twins, but were not, for Bab was a year older than 
 Betty, though onl}^ an inch taller. Both had on brown 
 calico frocks, much the worse for a week's wear ; but 
 clean pink pinafores, in honor of the occasion, made up 
 for that, as well as the gray stockings and thick boots 
 Both had round, rosy faces rather sunburnt, pug noses 
 somewhat freckled, merry blue eyes, and braided tails 
 of hair hanging down their backs like those of the deal 
 little Kenwigses. 
 
 "Don't they look sweet?" cried Bab, gazing with 
 maternal pride upon the left-hand row of dolls, who 
 might appropriately have sung in chorus, '^We ar^ 
 seven." 
 
 " Very nice ; but my Belinda beats them all. I do 
 think she is the splendidest child that ever was ! " And 
 Betty set down the basket to run and embrace the sus- 
 pended darhng, just then kicking up her heels with 
 joj^ul abandon. 
 
 " The cake can be cooling while we fix the children. 
 It does smell perfectly delicious ! " said Bab, lifting the 
 napkin to hang over the basket, fondly regarding the 
 little round loaf that lay inside. 
 
 '' Leave some smell for me ! " commanded Betty, rush- 
 ing back to get her fair share of the spicy fragrance. 
 
 The pug noses sniffed it up luxuriously, and the bright 
 eyes feasted upon the loveliness of the cake, so brown 
 and shiny, with a tipsy-looking B in pie-crust staggering 
 down one side, instead of sitting properly a-top. 
 
 " Ma let me put it on the very last minute, and it 
 baked so hard I couldn't pick it off. We can give Be- 
 linda that piece, so it 's just as well," observed Betty, 
 taking the lead, as her child was queen of the revel. 
 
A MYSTERIOUS DOG. 5 
 
 *' Let's set tliem round, so they can see too," pro- 
 posed Bab, going, with a hop, skip, and jump, to 
 collect her. young family. 
 
 Betty agreed, and for several minutes both were ab 
 Borbed in seating their dolls about the table, for some of 
 the dear things were so limp they wouldn't sit up ; and 
 others so stiff they wouldn't sit down, and all sorts of 
 seats had to be contrived to suit the peculiarities of 
 theiT spines. This arduous task accomphshed, the 
 fond mammas stepped back to enjoy the spectacle, 
 which, I assure you, was an impressive one. Belinda 
 sat with great dignity at the head, her hands genteelly 
 holding a pink cambric pocket-handkerchief in her lap. 
 Josephus, her cousin, took the foot, elegantly arrayed 
 in a new suit of purple and green gingham, with his 
 speaking countenance much obscured by a straw hat 
 several sizes too large for him ; while on either side sat 
 guests of every size, complexion, and costume, pro- 
 ducing a very gay and varied effect, as all were dressed 
 with a noble disregard of fashion. 
 
 '' They will like to see us get tea. Did you forget 
 the buns ? " inquired Betty, anxiously. 
 
 *' No ; got them in my pocket." And Bab produced 
 from that chaotic cupboard two rather stale and crumbly 
 ones, saved from lunch for the fete. These were cut 
 up and arranged in plates, forming a graceful circle 
 around the cake, still in its basket. 
 
 *' Ma couldn't spare much milk, so we must mix 
 water with it. Strong tea isn't good for children, she 
 says." And Bab contentedly surveyed the gill of skim- 
 milk which was to satisfy the thirst of the company. 
 
 *' While the tea draws and the cake cools, let's sit 
 
6 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 doTvn and rest ; I 'm so tired ! " sighed Betty, dropping 
 down on the door-step and stretching out the stout httle 
 legs which had been on the go all day ; for Saturday 
 had its tasks as well as its fun, and much business had 
 preceded this unusual pleasure. 
 
 Bab went and sat beside her, looking idly down the 
 walk toward the gate, where a fine cobweb shone in the 
 afternoon sun. 
 
 *' Ma says she is going over the house in a day or 
 two, now it is warm and dry after the stonn, and we 
 may go with her. You know she wouldn't take us in 
 the fall, 'cause we had whooping-cough, and it was 
 damp there. Now we shall see all the nice things ; 
 won't it be fun?" observed Bab, after a pause. 
 
 '' Yes, indeed ! Ma says there 's lots of books in one 
 room, and I can look at 'em while she goes round. 
 May be I '11 have time to read some, and then I can tell 
 you," answered Betty, who dearly loved stories, and 
 seldom got any new ones. 
 
 " I 'd rather see the old sijinning- wheel up garret, and 
 the big pictures, and the queer clothes in the blue chest. 
 It makes me mad to have them all shut up there, wb^^n 
 we might have such fun with them. I'd just like to 
 bang that old door down ! " And Bab twisted round to 
 give it a thump with her boots. " You needn't laugh ; 
 jrou know you'd like it as much as me," she added, 
 twisting back again, rather ashamed of her impatience. 
 
 *' I didn't laugh." 
 
 " You did ! Don't you suppose I know what laugh- 
 ing is ? " 
 
 " I guess I know I didn't." 
 
 <' You did laugh ! How darst you tell such a fib? * 
 
A MYSTERIOUS DOG. 7 
 
 *' If you say that again I '11 take Belinda and go right 
 home ; then what will you do ? " 
 
 ''I'll eat up the cake." 
 
 '' No, you won't ! It's mine, Ma said so ; and yon 
 are only company, so you 'd better behave CT I won't 
 have any party at all, so now." 
 
 This awful threat calmed Bab's anger at once, and 
 she hastened to introduce a safer subject. 
 
 "Nevermind; don't let's fight before the children 
 Do you know, Ma says she will let us play in the coach 
 house next time it rains, and keep the key if we want 
 to." 
 
 "Oh, goody! that's because we told her how we 
 found the little window under the woodbine, and didn't 
 try to go in, though we might have just as easy as 
 not," cried Betty, appeased at once, for, after a ten 
 years' acquaintance, she had grown used to Bab's pep- 
 pery temper. 
 
 " I suppose the coach will be all dust and rats and 
 spiders, but I don't care. You and the dolls can 
 be the passengers, and I shall sit up in front and 
 drive." 
 
 "You always do. I shall like riding better than 
 being horse all the time, with that old wooden bit in 
 my mouth, and 3^ou jerking my arms off," said poor 
 Betty, who was tired of being horse continually. 
 
 "I guess we'd better go and get the water now,** 
 suggested Bab, feehrig that it was not safe to encourage 
 her sister in such complaints. 
 
 " It is not many people who would dare to leave their 
 children all alone witli such a lovely cake, and know 
 they wouldn't pick at it," said Betty proudly, as thej 
 
8 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 trotted away to the spring, each with a little tin pail In 
 her hand. 
 
 Alas, for the faith of these too confiding nLammas I 
 They were gone about five minutes, and when they 
 returned a sight met their astonished eyes which pro- 
 duced a simultaneous shriek of horror. Flat upon their 
 faces lay the fourteen dolls, and the cake, the cherished 
 cake, was gone ! 
 
 For an instant the httle girls could only stand motion- 
 less, gazing at the dreadful scene. Then Bab cast her 
 water-pail wildly away, and, doubhng up her fist, cried 
 out fiercely, — 
 
 ''It was that Sally! She said she'd pay me foi 
 slapping her when she pinched httle Mary Ann, and 
 now she has. I '11 give it to her ! You run that way. 
 I '11 run this. Quick ! quick ! " 
 
 Away they went, Bab racing straight on, and be- 
 wildered Betty turning obediently round to trot in the 
 opposite direction as fast as she could, with the water 
 splashing all over her as she ran, for "he had forgotten 
 to put down her pail. Round the house they went, and 
 met with a crash at the back door, but no sign of the 
 thief appeared. 
 
 " In the lane ! " shouted Bab. 
 
 " Down by the spring ! " panted Betty ; and off they 
 wrent again, one to scramble up a pile of stones and look 
 over the wall into the avenue, the other to scamper to 
 the spot they had just left. Still, nothing appeared but 
 the dandelions' innocent faces looking up at Bab, and 9 
 brown bird scared from his bath in the spring by Betty's 
 hasty approach. 
 
 Back they rushed, but only to meet a new scare, 
 
A MYSTERIOUS DOG. 9 
 
 which made them both cry ''Ow!" and fly into the 
 porch for refuge. 
 
 A strange dog was sitting calmly among the ruins of 
 the feast, licking his lips after basely eating up the last 
 poor bits of bun, when he had bolted the cake, basket, 
 and aU, apparently. 
 
 "Oh, the horrid thing!" cried Bab, longing to gi-ve 
 battle, but afraid, for the dog waa a peculiar as well as 
 a dishonest animal. 
 
 "He looks lilve our China poodle, doesn't he?" 
 whispered Betty, making herself as small as possible 
 behind her more valiant sister. 
 
 He certainly did ; for, though much larger and dirtier 
 than the well- washed China dog, this live one had the 
 same tassel at the end of his tail, ruffles of hair round 
 his ankles, and a body shaven behind and curly before. 
 His eyes, however, were yellow, instead of glassy black, 
 like the other's ; his red nose worked as he cocked it 
 up, as if smelhng for more cakes, in the most impudent 
 manner ; and never, during the three years he had stood 
 on the parlor mantel-piece, had the China poodle done 
 the surprising feats with which this mysterious dog 
 now proceeded to astonish the httle girls almost out of 
 their wits. 
 
 First he sat up, put his fore-paws together, and begged 
 prettily ; then he suddenly flung his hind legs into the 
 air, and walked about with great ease. Hardly had they 
 recovered from this shock, when the hind legs came 
 down, the fore legs went up, and he paraded in a sol- 
 dierly manner to and fro, like a sentinel on guard. But 
 the crowning performance was when he took his tail in 
 his mouth and waltzed down the walk, over the prostrate 
 1* 
 
10 UNDER THE LILAC . 
 
 dolls, to the gate and back again, barely escaping a 
 general upset of the ravaged table. 
 
 Bab and Betty could only hold each other tight and 
 squeal with delight, for never had they seen any thing so 
 funny ; but, when the gymnastics ended, and the dizzy 
 dog came and stood on the step before them barking 
 loudly, with that pink nose of his sniffing at their 
 feet, and his queer eyes fixed sharply upon th^.m, then 
 amusement turned to fear again, and they dared not stir 
 
 " Whish, go away ! " commanded Bab. 
 
 *' Scat ! " meekly quavered Betty. 
 
 To their great rehef, the poodle gave several more 
 inquiring barks, and then vanished as suddenly as he 
 appeared. With one impulse, the children ran to see 
 what became of him, and, after a brisk scamper through 
 the orchard, saw the tasselled tail disappear under the 
 fence at the far end. 
 
 *' Where do you s'pose he came from?" asked Betty 
 stopping to rest on a big stone. 
 
 ''I'd like to know where he's gone, too, and givu 
 him a good beating, old thief! " scolded Bab, remember- 
 ing their wrongs. 
 
 " Oh, dear, yes ! I hope the cake burnt him dread- 
 fiilly if he did eat it," gi'oaned Betty, sadly remembering 
 the dozen good raisins she chopped up, and the " lots 
 of 'lasses " mother put into the dear lost loaf. 
 
 " The party 's all spoilt, so we may as well go home ; *' 
 and Bab mournfuUy led the way back. 
 
 Betty puckered up her face to cry, but burst out 
 laughing in spite o^ her woe. " It was so funny to see 
 him spin round and walk on his head ! I wish he 'd do 
 it ail over again ; don't you ? " 
 
A MYSTERIOUS DOO. 11 
 
 " Yes : but I hate Mm just the same. I wonder what 
 Ma will say when — why ! why ! " and Bab stopped short 
 in the arch, with her eyes as round and almost as large 
 as the blue saucers on the tea-tray. 
 
 "What is it? oh, what is it?" cried Betty, all ready 
 to run away if any new terror appeared. 
 
 "Look! there! it's come back!" said Bab in an 
 awe-stricken whisper, pointing to the table. 
 
 Betty did look, and her eyes opened even wider, — 
 as well they might, — for there, just where they first 
 put it, was the lost cake, unhurt, unchanged, except 
 that the big B had coasted a little further down the 
 gingerbread hill. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 WHERE THEY FOUND HIS MASTER, 
 
 NEITHER spoke for a minute, astonishment being 
 too great for words ; then, as by one impulse, 
 both stole up and touched the cake with a timid finger, 
 quite prepared to see it fly away in some mysteri- 
 ous and startlinor manner. It remained sitting tran- 
 quilly in the basket, however, and the children drew a 
 long breath of relief, for, though they did not beheve 
 in fairies, the late performances did seem rather like 
 witchcraft. 
 
 " The dog didn't eat it ! " 
 
 ^'SaUy didn't take it!" 
 
 '' How do you know? " 
 
 '' She never would have put it back." 
 
 ''Who did?" 
 
 '' Can't tell, but I forgive 'em." 
 
 " What shall we do now? " asked Betty, feeling as if 
 It would be very dijBQcult to settle down to a quiet tea- 
 party after such unusual excitement. 
 
 " Eat that cake up just as fast as ever we can," and 
 Bab divided the contested dehcacy with one chop of the 
 big knife, bound to make sure of her own share at all 
 events. 
 
 It did not take long, for they washed it down with 
 
WHERE THEY FOUND HIS MASTER. IS 
 
 sips of milk, and ate as fast as possible, glancing round 
 aE the while to see if the queer dog was coming again, 
 
 " There ! now I 'd like to see any one take my cake 
 away," said Bab, defiantly crunching her half of the 
 pie-crust B. 
 
 "Or mine either," coughed Betty, choking over a 
 raisin that wouldn't go down in a hurry. 
 
 " We might as well clear up, and play there had been 
 an earthquake," suggested Bab, feeling that some such 
 convulsion of Nature was needed to explain satisfactorily 
 the demoralized condition of her family. 
 
 " That will be splendid. My poor Linda was knocked 
 right over on her nose. Darhn' child, come to your 
 mother and be fixed," purred Betty, lifting the fallen 
 idol from a grove of chickweed, and tenderly brushing 
 the dirt from Belinda's heroically smiling face. 
 
 "She'll have croup to-night as sm-e as the world. 
 We 'd better make up some squiUs out of this sugar and 
 water," said Bab, who dearly loved to dose the dollies 
 all round. 
 
 " Ffaps she will, but you needn't begin to sneeze 
 yet awhile. I can sneeze for my own children, thank 
 you, ma'am," returned Betty, sharjily, for her usually 
 amiable spirit had been ruffled by the late occurrences. 
 
 "I didn't sneeze I I've got enough to do to talk 
 ind cry and cough for my own poor dears, without both- 
 ering about yours," cried Bab, even more ruflled than 
 her sister. 
 
 "Then who did? I heard a real live sneeze just 
 as plain as any thing," and Betty looked up to the 
 green roof above her, as if the sound came from that 
 direction. 
 
14 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 A yellow-bird sat swinging and chirping on the taP. 
 b'lac-bush, but no other living thing was in sight. 
 
 ''Birds don't sneeze, do they?" asked Betty, ejing 
 httle Goldy suspiciously. 
 
 '* You goose ! of course they don't." . 
 
 *' "Well, I should just like to know who is laughing 
 and sneezing round here. May be it is the dog," sug- 
 gested Betty, looking relieved. 
 
 " I never heard of a dog's laughing, except Mother 
 Hubbard's. This is such a queer one, may be he can, 
 though. I wonder where he went to ? " and Bab took a 
 survey down both the side-paths, quite longing to see 
 the funny poodle again. 
 
 " I know where I'm going to," said Betty, pihng the 
 dolls into her apron with more haste than care. " I 'm 
 going right straight home to tell Ma all about it. I 
 don't like such actions, and I 'm afraid to stay." 
 
 *'I ain't; but I guess it is going to rain, so I shall 
 have to go any way," answered Bab, taking advantage 
 of the black clouds rolling up the sky, for she scorned 
 to own that she was afraid of any thing. 
 
 Clearing the table in a summary manner by catching 
 up the four corners of the cloth, Bab pu"^ the rattling 
 bundle into her apron, flung her children on the top, and 
 pronounced herself ready to depart. Betty hngered an 
 instant to pick up odds and ends that might be spoilt 
 by the lain, and, when she turned from taking the red 
 halter oflT the knocker, two lovely pink roses lay on the 
 stone steps. 
 
 "Oh, Bab, just see ! Here 's the very ones we wanted. 
 Wasn't it nice of the wind to blow 'em down?" she 
 called out, picking them up and running after her sister, 
 
WHERE THEY FOUND HIS MASTER. 16 
 
 w^ho had strolled moodily along, still looking about foi 
 her sworn foe, Sally Folsom. ' 
 
 The flowers soothed the feelings of the little girls, 
 because they had longed for them, and bravely resisted 
 the temptation to climb up the trellis and help them- 
 selves, since their mother had forbidden such feats j 
 owing to a fall Bab got trying to reach a honeysuckle 
 from the vine which ran all over the porch. 
 
 Home thej^ went and poured out their tale, to Mrs. 
 Moss's great amusement ; for she saw in it only some 
 playmate's prank, and was not much impressed by the 
 mysterious sneeze and laugh. 
 
 " We'll have a grand rummage Monday, and find out 
 what is going on over there," was all she said. 
 
 But M.S. Moss could not keep her promise, for on 
 Monday it still rained, and the httle girls paddled off to 
 school like a pair of young ducks, enjoying every puddle 
 they came to, since India-rubber boots made wading a 
 delicious possibility. They took their dinner, and at 
 noon regaled a crowd of comrades with an account of 
 the mysterious dog, who appeared to be haunting the 
 neighborhood, as several of the other children had seen 
 him examining their back yards with interest. He had 
 begged of them, but to none had he exhibited his ac- 
 complishments except Bab and Bettj' ; and they were 
 therefore much set up, and called him '' our dog" with 
 an air. The cake transaction remained a riddle, hjx 
 Sally Folsom solemnly declared that she was pla3ring 
 tag in Mamie Snow's barn at that identical time. No one 
 had been near the old house but the two children, and 
 no one could throw any light upon that singular affair. 
 
 It produced a great effect, however ; for even 
 
16 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 "teacher" was interested, and told such amazing tales 
 of a juggler she once saw, that donghnnts were left for- 
 gotten in dinner-haskets, and wedges of pie remained 
 suspended in the air for several minutes at a time, in- 
 stead of vanishing with miraculous rapidity as usual. 
 At afternoon recess, which the girls had first, Bab 
 nearly dislocated every joint of her httle body trying 
 to imitate the poodle's antics. »She had practised on 
 her bed with gi-eat success, but the wood-shed floor 
 was a different thing, as her knees and elbows soon 
 testified. 
 
 "It looked just as easj^ as any thing; I don't see 
 how he did it," she said, coming down with a bimip after 
 vainly attempting to walk on her hands. 
 
 ** My gracious, there he is this very minute ! " cried 
 Betty, who sat on a httle wood-pile near the door. 
 
 There was a general rush, and sixteen small girls 
 gazed out into the rain as eagerly as if to behold Cin- 
 derella's magic coach, instead of one forlorn dog trotting 
 by through the mud. 
 
 " Oh, do call him in and make him dance ! " cried the 
 girls, all chiiping at once, till it sounded as if a flock 
 of sparrows had taken possession of the shed. 
 
 " / will call him, — he knows we," and Bab scrambled 
 up, forgetting how she had chased the poodle and called 
 him names two days ago. 
 
 He evidently had not forgotten, however ; for, though 
 He paused and looked wistfully at them, he would not 
 approach, but stood dripping in the rain, with his frills 
 much bedraggled, while his tasselled tail wagged slowly, 
 and his pink nose pointed suggestively to the pails and 
 baskets, nearly empty now. 
 
^VHERE THEY FOUND HIS MASTER. 17 
 
 " He's hungry ; give him something to eat, and then 
 he'll see that we don't want to hurt him," suggested 
 Sally, starting a contribution with her last bit of bread 
 and butter. 
 
 Bab caught up her new pail, and collected all the 
 odds and ends ; then tried to beguile the poor beast in 
 to eat and be comforted. But he only came as far as 
 the door, and, sitting up, begged with such imploring 
 eyes that Bab put down the pail and stepped back, 
 saying pitifull}^, — 
 
 "The poor thing is starved j let him eat all he wants, 
 and we won't touch him." 
 
 The girls drew back with little clucks of interest and 
 compassion ; but I regret to say their charity was not 
 rewarded as they expected, for, the minute the coast was 
 clear, the dog marched boldly up, seized the handle of 
 the pail in his mouth, and was off with it, galloping 
 down the road at a great pace. Shrieks arose from the 
 children, especially Bab and Betty, basely bereaved of 
 their new dinner-pail ; but no one could follow the thief, 
 for the bell rang, and in they went, so much excited 
 that the boj^s rushed tumultuously forth to discover the 
 cause. 
 
 By the time school was over the sun was out, and Bab 
 and Betty hastened home to tell their wrongs and be 
 comforted b}^ mother, who did it most effectuallj'. 
 
 "Never mind dears, I'll get .you another pail, if he 
 does n't bring it back as he did before. As it is too 
 wet for you to play out, 3'ou shall go and see the old 
 coach-house as I promised. Keep on your rubbers and 
 come along." 
 
 This delightful prospect much assuaged their woe, and 
 
18 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 away they went, skipping gayly down tlie gravelled path, 
 while Mrs. Moss followed, with skirts well tucked up, 
 and a great bunch of keys in her hand ; for she hved at 
 the Lodge, and had charge of the premises. 
 
 The small door of the coach-house was fastened inside, 
 but the large one had a padlock on it ; and this being 
 quickly unfastened, one half swung open, and the little 
 girls ran in, too eager and curious even to cry out 
 when they found themselves at last in possession of the 
 long-coveted old carriage. A dust}^, musty concern 
 enough ; but it had a high seat, a door, steps that let 
 down, and many other charms which rendered it most 
 desirable in the eyes of children. 
 
 Bab made straight for the box and Betty for the 
 door ; but both came tumbling down faster than they 
 went up, when from the gloom of the interior came 
 a shrill bark, and a low voice saying quickly, " Down, 
 Sancho ! down ! " 
 
 "Who is there?" demanded Mrs. Moss, in a stem 
 tone, backing toward the door with both children cUng- 
 Lng to her skirts. 
 
 The well-known curly white head was popped out of 
 the broken window, and a mild whine seemed to say, 
 " Don't be alarmed, ladies ; we won't hurt you." 
 
 " Come out this minute, or I shall have to come and 
 get you," called Mrs. Moss, growing very brave all of 
 a sudden as she caught sight of a pair of small, dusty 
 shoes under the coach. 
 
 " Yes.'m, I 'm coming as fast as I can," answered a 
 meek voice, as what appeared to be a bundle of rags 
 leaped out of the dark, followed by the poodle, who 
 immediately sat down at the bare feet of his owner with 
 
WHERE THEY FOUND HIS MASTER. 19 
 
 a watchful air, as if ready t^ assault any one who might 
 approach too near. 
 
 " Now, then, who are you, and how did you get 
 here?" asked Mrs. Moss, trying to speak sternly, 
 though her motherly eyes were already fuU of pity as 
 they rested on the forlorn little figure before her. 
 
CHAPTER m 
 
 BEN. 
 
 " 13LEASE, 'M, my name is Ben Brown, and 1 m 
 
 i traveUin'." 
 
 '' Where are jou going?" 
 
 " Anywheres to get work." 
 
 " What sort of work can you do?" 
 
 " All kinds. I 'm used to horses." 
 
 " Bless me ! such a little chap as you?" 
 
 " I 'm twelve, ma'am, and can ride any thing on four 
 legs ; " and the small boy gave a nod that seemed to say, 
 " Bring on joui Ci-uisers. I'm ready for 'em." 
 
 "Haven't you got any folks?" asked Mrs. Moss, 
 amused but still anxious, for the sunburnt face was 
 very thin, the eyes hollow with hunger or pain, and the 
 ragged figure leaned on the wheel as if too weak or 
 weary to stand alone. 
 
 " No, *m, not of my own ; and the people I was left 
 with beat me so, I — run away." The last words seemed 
 to bolt out against his will, as if the woman's sjoipathy 
 UTesistibly won the child's confidence. 
 
 "Then I don't blame you. But how did you get 
 here?" 
 
 "I was so tired I couldn't go any further, and I 
 thought the folks up here at the big house would take 
 
BEN. 21 
 
 me in. But the gat^ was locked, and I was so dis- 
 couraged, I jest laid down outside and give up." 
 
 '' Poor little soul, I don't wonder," said Mrs. Moss, 
 while the children looked deeply interested at mention 
 of their gate. 
 
 The boy drew a long breath, and his eyes began to 
 tmnkle in spite of his forlorn state as he went on, 
 while the dog pricked up his ears at mention of Ma 
 name : — 
 
 "While I was restin' I heard some one come along 
 inside, and I peeked, and saw them little girls playin' 
 The vittles looked so nice I couldn't help wantin' 'em ; 
 but I didn't take nothin', — it was Sancho, and he took 
 the cake for me." 
 
 Bab and Betty gave a gasp and stared reproachfully 
 at the poodle, who half closed his eyes with a meek, 
 unconscious look that was very droll. 
 
 " And you made him put it back? " cried Bab. 
 
 *' No ; I did it myself. Got over the gate when you 
 was racin' after Sanch, and then clim' up on the porch 
 and hid," said the boy with a grin. 
 
 " And you laughed? " asked Bab. 
 
 ''Yes." 
 
 " And sneezed? " added Betty. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And threw down the roses?" cried both. 
 
 '* Yes ; and you liked 'em, didn't you? " 
 
 "Course we did! What made you hide?" said 
 Bab. 
 
 " I wasn't fit to be seen," muttered Ben, glancing at 
 his tatters as if he 'd like to dive out of sight into the 
 dark coach again 
 
22 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 " How came you heref" demanded Mrs. Moss, sud- 
 denly remembering her responsibility. 
 
 " I heard 'em talk about a little winder and a shed, 
 and when they'd gone I found it and come in. The 
 glass was broke, and I only pulled the nail out. I 
 haven't done a mite of harm sleepin' here two nights. 
 I was so tuckered out I couldn't go on nohow, though 
 i tried a-Sunday." 
 
 " And came back again?" 
 
 *'Yes, 'm; it was so lonesome in the rain, and this 
 place seemed kinder like home, and I could hear 'em 
 talkin' outside, and Sanch he found vittles, and I was 
 pretty comfortable." 
 
 '' Well, I never ! " ejaculated Mrs. Moss, whisking up 
 a corner of her apron to wipe her eyes, for the thought 
 of the poor httle fellow alone there for two days and 
 nights with no bed but musty straw, no food but the 
 scraps a dog brought him, was too much for her. " Do 
 you know what I 'm going to do with you ? " she asked, 
 trying to look calm and cool, with a great tear running 
 down her wholesome red cheek, and a smile trjdng to 
 break out at the comers of her lips. 
 
 *'No, ma'am; and I dunno as I care. Only don't 
 be hard on Sanch; he's been real good to me, and 
 we're fond of one another; ain't us, old chap?" an- 
 swered the boy, with his arm around the dog's neck, 
 and an anions look which he had not worn for him- 
 self. 
 
 *'I'm going to take you right home, and wash and 
 feed and put you in a good bed ; and to-morrow, — well, 
 we'll see what '11 happen then," said Mrs. Moss, not 
 quite sure about it herself. 
 
BEN. 23 
 
 "You're very kind, ma'am. I'll be glad to work 
 ft>r you. Ain't you got a horse I can see to ? " asked 
 the boy, eagerly. 
 
 " Nothing but hens and a cat." 
 
 Bab and Betty burst out laughing when their mother 
 said that, and Ben gave a faint giggle, as if he would 
 like to join in if he only had the strength to do it. But 
 his legs shook under him, and he felt a queer dizziness ; 
 so he could only hold on to Sancho, and blink at the 
 light like a young owl. 
 
 "Come right along, child. Run on, girls, and put 
 the rest of the broth to warming, and fill the kettle. 
 I'll see to the boy," commanded Mrs. Moss, wavmg 
 off the children, and going up to feel the pulse of her 
 new charge, for it suddenly occurred to her that he 
 might be sick and not safe to take home. 
 
 The hand he gave her was very thin, but clean and 
 cool, and the black eyes were clear though hollow, for 
 the poor lad was half-starved. 
 
 "I'm awful shabby, but I ain't dirty. I had a 
 washin' in the rain last night, and I've jest about 
 lived on water lately," he explained, wondering why 
 she looked at him so hard. 
 
 ^' Put out your tongue." 
 
 He did so, but took it in again to say quickly, — 
 
 " I ain't sick, — I 'm only hungry ; for I haven't had 
 a mite but what Saueh brought, for three days ; and I 
 always go halves, don't I, Sanch? " 
 
 The poodle gave a shrill bark, and vibrated excitedly 
 between the door and his master as if he understood 
 all that was going on, and recommended a speedy march 
 toward the promised food and shelter. Mrs. IMoss took 
 
24 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 the hint, and bade the boy follow her at once and bring 
 his " things" with him. 
 
 "I ain't got any. Some big fellers took away my 
 bundle, else I wouldn't look so bad. There 's only this. 
 I 'm sorry Sanch took it, and I 'd like to give it back if 
 I knew whose it was," said Ben, bringing the new din- 
 ner-pail out from the depths of the coach where he had 
 gone to housekeeping. 
 
 '' That's soon done ; it's mine, and you're welcome 
 to the bits your queer dog ran off with. Come along, 
 I must lock up," and Mrs. Moss clanked her keys sug- 
 gestively. 
 
 Ben limped out, leaning on a broken hoe-handle, for he 
 was stiff after two days in such damp lodgings, as well 
 as worn out with a fortnight's wandering through sun 
 and rain. Sancho was in great spirits, evidently feeling 
 that their woes were over and his foraging expeditions 
 at an end, for he frisked about his master with yelps 
 of pleasure, or made plaji'al darts at the ankles of his 
 benefactress, which caused her to cry, " Wliish ! " and 
 *' Scat ! " and shake her skirts at him as if he were a 
 cat or hen. 
 
 A hot fire was roaring in the stove under the broth- 
 skillet and tea-kettle, and Betty was poking in more 
 wood, with a gi-eat smirch of black on her chubby cheek, 
 while Bab was cutting awaj^ at the loaf as if bent on 
 slicing her own fingers off. Before Ben knew what he 
 was about, he found himself in the old rocking-chair 
 devouring bread and butter as only a hungry boy can 
 with Sancho close by gnawing a mutton-bone like a 
 ravenous wolf in sheep's clothing. 
 
 "^Vhile the new-comers were thus happily employed, 
 
BEN, 25 
 
 Airs. Moss beckoned the little girls out of the room, 
 and gave them both an errand. 
 
 " Bab, you run over to Mrs. Barton's, and ask her 
 for any old duds Billy don't want ; and Betty, you go 
 to the Cutters, and tell Miss Clarindy I 'd like a couple 
 of the shirts we made at last sewing circle. Any shoes, 
 or a hat, or socks, would come handy, for the poor dear 
 hasn't a whole thread on him." 
 
 Away went the children full of anxiety to clothe their 
 beggar ; and so well did they plead his cause with the 
 good neighbors, that Ben hardly knew himself when he 
 emerged from the back bedroom half an hour later, 
 clothed in Billy Barton's faded flannel suit, with an un- 
 bleached cotton shirt out of the Dorcas basket, and a 
 pair of Milly Cutter's old shoes on his feet. 
 
 Sancho also had been put in better trim, for, after hi£ 
 master had refreshed himself with a warm bath, he gave 
 his dog a good scrub while Mrs. Moss set a stitch here 
 and there in the new old clothes ; and Sancho reappeared^ 
 looking more like the china poodle than ever, being as 
 white as snow, his curls well brushed up, and his tasselly 
 tail waving proudly over his back. 
 
 Feeling eminently respectable and comfortable, the 
 wanderers humbly presented themselves, and were 
 greeted with smiles of approval from the little girls and 
 a hospitable welcome from the mother, who set them 
 near the stove to dry, as both were decidedly damp after 
 their ablutions. 
 
 " I declare I shouldn't have known you ! " exclaimed 
 the good woman, surveying the boy with great satisfac- 
 tion ; for, though still very thin and tired, the lad had 
 a tidy look that pleased her, and a lively way of moving 
 
26 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 about in his clothes, like an eel in a skin rather too big 
 for him. The merry black eyes seemed to see every 
 thing, the voice had an honest sound, and the sun-burnt 
 face looked several years younger since the unnatural 
 despondency had gone out of it. 
 
 '' It 's very nice, and me and Sanch are lots obliged, 
 ma'am," murmured Ben, getting red and bashful under 
 the three pairs of fiiendly eyes fixed upon Mm. 
 
 Bab and Betty were doing up the tea-things with 
 unusual despatch, so that they might entertain their 
 guest, and just as Ben spoke Bab dropped a cup. 
 To her great surprise no smash followed, for, bending 
 quickly, the boy caught it as it fell, and presented it to 
 her on the back of his hand with a httle bow. 
 
 '* Gracious ! how could you do it? " asked Bab, look- 
 mg as if she thought there was magic about it. 
 
 '' That 's nothing ; look here," and, taking two plates, 
 Ben sent them spinning up into the air, catching and 
 throwing so rapidly that Bab and Betty stood with their 
 mouths open, as if to swallow the plates should they 
 fall, while Mrs. Moss, with her dish-cloth suspended, 
 watched the antics of her crockery with a housewife's 
 anxiety. 
 
 "That does beat all!" was the only exclamation 
 she had time to make ; for, as if desirous of showing 
 his gratitude in the only way he could, Ben took 
 several clothes-pins from a basket near by, sent 
 several saucers twirling up, caught them on the pins, 
 balanced the pins on chin, nose, forehead, and went 
 walking about with a new and peculiar sort of toad- 
 stool ornamenting his countenance. 
 
 The children were immensely tickled, and Mrs. 
 
BEN. 27 
 
 Moss was so amused she would have lent her best 
 soup- tureen if he had expressed a wish for it. But 
 Ben was too tired to show all his accomphshments 
 At once, and he soon stopped, looking as if he almost 
 regretted having betrayed that he possessed any. 
 
 "I guess you've been in the juggling business," 
 said Mrs. Moss, with a wise nod, for she saw the same 
 look on his face as when he said his name was Ben 
 Brown, — the look of one who was not telling the whole 
 truth. 
 
 *' Yes, 'm. I used to help Senior Pedro, the Wizard 
 of the World, and I leaned some of his tiicks," stam- 
 mered Ben, trying to seem innocent. 
 
 ''Now, look here, boy, you'd better tell me the 
 whole story, and tell it true, or I shall have to send 
 you up to Judge Morris. I wouldn't like to do that, 
 for he is a harsh sort of a man ; so, if you haven't done 
 any thing bad, you needn't be afraid to speak out, and 
 I'U do what I can for you," said Mrs. Moss, rather 
 sternly, as she went and sat down in her rocking-chair, 
 as if about to open the court. 
 
 *' I haven't done any thing bad, and I ainH afraid, 
 only I don't want to go back ; and if I tell, may be 
 you *11 let 'em know where I be," said Ben, much dis- 
 tressed between his longing to confide in his new friend 
 and his fear of his old enemies. 
 
 " If they abused you, of course I wouldn't. TeU 
 the truth, and I '11 stand by you. Girls, you go for the 
 milk." 
 
 " Oh, Ma, do let us stay I We'll never tell, truly, 
 truly I " cried Bab and Betty, full of dismay at being 
 sent off when secrets wcse about to be divulged. 
 
28 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 *' I don't mind 'em," said Ben handsomely. 
 
 " Very well, only hold your tongues. Now, boy, 
 where did you come from?" said IMrs. Moss, as the 
 httle girls hastily sat down together on their private 
 and particular bench opposite their mother, brimming 
 with curiosity and beaming with satisfaction at tk* 
 prospect before them 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HIS STORY, 
 
 •* T RAN away from a circus," began Ben, but got no 
 -»- further, for Bab and Betty gave a simultaneous 
 bounce of delight, and both cried out at once, — 
 
 *' We Ve been to one I It was splendid ! " 
 
 " You wouldn't think so if you knew as much about 
 it as I do," answered Ben, with a sudden frown and 
 wriggle, as if he still felt the smart of the blows he had 
 received. " We don't caU it splendid ; do we, Sancho ? *" 
 he added, making a queer noise, which caused the 
 poodle to growl and bang the floor irefuUy with his 
 tail, as he lay close to his master's feet, getting ac- 
 quainted with the new shoes they wore. 
 
 "How came you there?" asked Mrs. Moss, rather 
 disturbed at the news. 
 
 '' Why, my father was the * Wild Hunter of the 
 Plains.' Didn't you ever see or hear of him?" said 
 Ben, as if surprised at her ignorance. 
 
 ** Bless your heart, child, I halven't been to a circus 
 this ten years, and I'm sure I don't remember what 
 or who I saw then," answered Mrs. Moss, amused, yet 
 touched by the son's evident admiration for his father. 
 
 "Didn't you see him?" demanded Ben, turning to 
 the little girls. 
 
30 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 " We saw Indians and tumbling men, and the Bound- 
 ing Brothers of Borneo, and a clown and monkeys, and 
 a httle mite of a pony with blue eyes. Was he any oi 
 them ? " answered Betty, innocently. 
 
 ''Pooh! he didn't belong to that lot. He always 
 rode two, four, six, eight horses to oncet, and I jsed 
 to ride with him till I got too big. My father was 
 A No. 1, and didn't do any thing but break horses and 
 ride 'em," said Ben, with as much pride as if his parent 
 had been a President. 
 
 '' Is he dead?" asked Mrs. Moss. 
 
 *' I don't know. Wish I did," — and poor Ben gave 
 a gulp as if something rose in his throat and choked 
 him. 
 
 " Tell us aU about it, dear, and may be we can find 
 out where he is," said Mrs. Moss leaning foi'ward to 
 pat the shiny dark head that was suddenly bent over 
 the dog. 
 
 '' Yes, ma'am, I will, thank y*," and with an effort 
 the boy steadied his voice and plunged into the middle 
 of his story. 
 
 "Father was always good to me, and I liked bein* 
 with him after granny died. I lived with her till I was 
 seven; then father took me, and I was trained for a 
 rider. You jest oughter have seen me when I was a 
 little feller all in white tights, and a gold belt, and pink 
 riggin', standin' on father's shoulder, or hangin' on to 
 old General's tail, and him gallopin' full pelt ; or father 
 ridin' three horses with me on his head wavin' flags, 
 and every one clappin' like fun." 
 
 "Oh, weren't you scared to pieces?" asked Betty, 
 quaking at the mere thought. 
 
HIS STORY. 31 
 
 ** Not a bit, I liked it." 
 
 ** So should 1 1 " cned Bab enthusiastically. 
 
 "Then I drove the four ponies in the little chariot, 
 when we paraded," continued Ben, " and I sat on the 
 great ball up top of tht grand car drawed by Hannibai 
 and Nero. But I didnH like that, 'cause it was awfui 
 high and shaky, and the sun was hot, and the trees 
 slapped my face, and my legs ached holdin' on." 
 
 ''What's hanny bells and neroes?" demanded 
 Betty. 
 
 " Big elephants. Father never let 'em put me up 
 there, and they didn't darst tiU he was gone ; then I 
 had to, else they 'd 'a' thrashed me." 
 
 "Didn't any one take your part?" asked Mrs. 
 Moss. 
 
 " Yes, 'm, 'most all the ladies did; they were very 
 good to me, 'specially 'Melia. She vowed she wouldn't 
 go on in the Tunnymunt act if they didn't stop knocMn' 
 me round when I wouldn't help old Buck with the bears. 
 So they had to stop it, 'cause she led first rate, and 
 none of the other ladies rode half as well as 'Melia." 
 
 "Bears! oh, do tell about them!" exclaimed Bab, 
 in great excitement, for at the only circus she had seen 
 the animals were her delight. 
 
 " Buck had five of 'em, cross old fellers, and he 
 showed 'em off. I played with 'em once, jest for fun, 
 and he thought it would make a hit to have me show 
 off instead of him. But they had a way of clawin' and 
 huggin' that wasn't nice, and you couldn't never tell 
 whether they were good-natured or ready to bite youi 
 head off. Buck was all over scars where they'd 
 scratched and bit him, and I wasn't going to do it ; and 
 
82 UNDER THE LILAC B. 
 
 I didn't have to, owin' to Miss St. John's standin' b^ 
 me like a good one." 
 
 "Who was Miss St. John?" asked Mrs. Moss, 
 rather confused by the sudden introduction of ne^v 
 names and people. 
 
 ''Why she was 'Melia, — Mrs. Smithers, the ring- 
 master's YTife. His name wasn't Montgomery any 
 more'n hers was St John. They all change 'em to 
 something fine on the bills, you know. Father used 
 to be Senor Jose Moatebello ; and I was Master Adol- 
 phus Bloomsbury, after I stopped bein' a flyin' Coopid 
 and a Infant Progidy." 
 
 Mrs. Moss leaned back in her chair to laugh at that, 
 greatly to the surprise of the little girls, who were much 
 impressed with the elegance of these high-sounding 
 names. 
 
 " Go on with your story, Ben, and tell why you ran 
 away and what became of your Pa," she said, composing 
 herself to listen, really interested in the child. 
 
 "Well, you see, father had a quarrel -vvdth old 
 Smithers, and went off sudden last fall, just before 
 the tenting season was over. He told me he was 
 goin' to a great ridin' school in New York, and when 
 he was fixed he 'd send for me. I was to stay in the 
 museum and help Pedro with the trick business. He 
 was a nice man and I liked him, and 'Meha was goin' 
 to see to me, and I didn't mind for awhile. But father 
 didn't send for me, and I began to have horrid times. 
 If it hadn't been for 'Melia and Sancho I would have 
 cut away long before I did." 
 
 " What did you have to do? " 
 
 '* Lots of things, for times was dull and I was smart. 
 
HIS STORY 38 
 
 Smithers said so, any way, and I had t>o tumble up 
 lively when he gave the word. I didn't mind dom 
 tricks or showin' off Sancho, for father trained him, and 
 he always did well with me. But they wanted me to 
 drink gin to keep me small, and I wouldn't, 'cause 
 father didn't like that kind of thing. I used to ride 
 tip- top, and that just suited me till I got a fall and hurt 
 my back ; but I had to go on all the same, though I 
 ached dreadful, and used to tumble off, I was so dizzy 
 and weak." 
 
 "What a brute that man must have been! Why 
 didn't 'Meha put a stop to it?" asked Mrs. Moss, 
 indignantly. 
 
 '* She died, ma'am, and then there was no one left 
 but Sanch ; so I run away." 
 
 Then Ben fell to patting his dog again, to hide the 
 tears he could not keep from coming at the thought of 
 the kind friend he had lost. 
 
 " What did you mean to do? " 
 
 "Find father; but I couldn't, for he wasn't at the 
 ridin' school, and they told me he had gone out West 
 to buy mustangs for a man who wanted a lot. So then 
 I was in a fix, for I couldn't go to father, didn't know 
 jest where he was, and I wouldn't sneak back to 
 Smithers to be abused. Tried to make 'em take me 
 at the ridin' school, but they didn't want a boy, and I 
 travelled along and tried to get work. But I'd have 
 starved if it hadn't been for Sanch. I left him tied up 
 when I ran off, for fear they 'd say I stole him. He 's 
 a very valuable dog, ma'am, the best trick dog I ever 
 see, and they 'd want him back more than they would 
 me. He belongs to father, and 1 hated to leave him ; 
 
84 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 but I did. I hooked it one dark night, and nevei 
 thought I 'd see him ag'in. Next mornin' I was eatin* 
 breakfast in a barn miles away, and dreadf^ lonesome, 
 when he came tearin' in, all mud and wet, w^th a great 
 piece of rope draggin'. He'd gnawed it and come 
 after me, and wouldn't go back or be lost; and I'H 
 never leave him again, will I, dear old feller?" 
 
 Sancho had listened to this portion of the tale with 
 intense interest, and when Ben spoke to him he stood 
 straight up, put both paws on the boy's shoulders, 
 licked his face with a world of dumb affection in his 
 yellow eyes, and gave a Uttle whine which said as 
 plainl}" as words, — 
 
 " Cheer up, Httle master ; ikthers may vanish and 
 friends die, but I never will desert you." 
 
 Ben hugged him close and smiled over his curly, 
 white head at the little giiis, who clapped their hands 
 at the pleasing tableau, and then went to pat and fon- 
 dle the good creature, assuring him that they entirely 
 forgave the theft of the cake and the new dinner-pail. 
 Inspked by these endearments and certain private 
 signals given by Ben, Sancho suddenly burst away to 
 perform all his best antics with unusual grace and 
 dexterity. 
 
 Bab and Betty danced about the room with rapture, 
 while Mrs. Moss declared she was almost afraid to have 
 such a wonderfully intelligent animal in the house 
 Praises of his dog pleased Ben more than praises of 
 himself, and when the confusion had subsided he en- 
 tertained his audience with a lively account of Sancho's 
 cleverness, fidelity, and the various adventures in which 
 he had nobly borne his part. 
 
HIS STOBY. B6 
 
 While he talked, Mrs. Moss was making up her mind 
 about him, and when he came to an end of his dog's 
 perfections, she said, gravely, — 
 
 '' If I can find something for you to do, would you 
 like to stay here awhile ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, ma'am, I'd be glad to ! " answered Ben, 
 eagerly ; for the place seenied home-like already, and 
 the good woman almost as motherly as the departed 
 Mrs. Smithers. 
 
 *' Well, I'll step over to the Squire's to-morrow to 
 see what he says. Shouldn't wonder if he 'd take you 
 for a chore-boy, if you are as smart as you say. He 
 always has one in the summer, and I haven't seen any 
 round yet. Can you drive cows ? " 
 
 '' Hope so ; " and Ben gave a shrug, as if it was a 
 very unnecessary question to put to a person who had 
 driven four calico ponies in a gilded chariot. 
 
 " It mayn't be as hvety as riding elephants and play- 
 ing with bears, but it is respectable ; and I guess you'll 
 be happier switching Brindle and Buttercup than being 
 switched yourself," said Mrs. Moss, shaking her head 
 at him with a smile. 
 
 " I guess I will, ma'am," answered Ben, with sudden 
 meekness, remembering the trials from which he had 
 escaped. 
 
 Very soon after this, he was sent off for a good nighfs 
 sleep in the back bedroom, with Sancho to watch over 
 him. But both found it difficult to slumber till the 
 racket overhead subsided ; for Bab insisted on playing 
 she was a bear and devouring poor Betty in spite of 
 her wails, till their mother came up and put an end to 
 it by threatening to send Ben and his dog away in the 
 
36 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 morning, if the girls " didn't behave and be as still as 
 mice." 
 
 This they solemnly promised ; and they were soon 
 dreaming of gilded cars and mouldy coaches, run- 
 away boys and dinner-pails, dancing dogs and twirhng 
 teacups. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 BEN GETS A PLACE. 
 
 WHEN Ben awoke next morning, he looked about 
 him for a moment half bewildered, because 
 there was neither a canvas tent, a barn roof, nor the 
 blue sky above him, but a neat white ceiling, where 
 several flies buzzed sociably together, while from with- 
 out came, not the tramping of horses, the twitter of 
 swallows, or the chirp of early birds, but the comfort- 
 able cackle of hens and the sound of two little voices 
 chanting the multiplication table. 
 
 Sancho sat at the open window watching the old cat 
 wash her face, and trying to imitate her with his great 
 ruffled paw, so awkwardly that Ben laughed ; and Sanch, 
 to hide his confusion at being caught, made one bound 
 from cliair to bed, and licked his master's face so ener 
 getically that the boy dived under the bedclothes to 
 escape from the rough tongue. 
 
 A rap on the floor from below made both jump up, 
 and in ten minutes a shiny-faced lad and a lively dog 
 went racing downstairs, — one to say, " Good-mornin*, 
 ma'am," the other to wag his tail faster than ever tail 
 wagged before, for ham frizzled on the stove, and Sancho 
 was fond of it. 
 
 " Did you rest well?*^' asked Mrs. Moss, nodding at 
 him, fork in hand. 
 
38 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 " Guess I did ! Never saw such a bed. 1 'm used 
 to hay and a horse-blanket, and lately nothin' but sky 
 for a cover and grass for my feather-bed," laughed Ben, 
 grateful for present comforts and making light of past 
 hardships. 
 
 *' Clean, sweet corn-husks ain't bad for young bonea, 
 even if they haven't got more flesh on them than yours 
 have," answered Mrs. Moss, giving the smooth head a 
 motherly stroke as she went by. 
 
 ''Fat ain't allowed in our profession, ma'am. The 
 thinner the better for tight-ropes and tumbUn' ; likewise 
 bareback ridin' and spry jugglin'. Muscle 's the thing, 
 and there you are." 
 
 Ben stretched out a wiry httle arm with a clenched 
 fist at the end of it, as if he were a young Hercules, 
 ready to play ball with the stove if she gave him leave. 
 Glad to see him in such good spirits, she pointed to the 
 well outside, saving pleasantly, — 
 
 ''Well, then, just try your muscle by bringing in 
 some fresh water." 
 
 Ben caught up a pail and ran oflT, ready to be useful ; 
 but, while he waited for the bucket to fill down among 
 the mossy stones, he looked about him, well pleased 
 with all he saw, — the small brown house with a pretty 
 curl of smoke rising from its chimney, the Httle sisters 
 pitting in the sunshine, green hills and newly-planted 
 fields far and near, a brook dancing through the orchard, 
 birds singing in the elm avenue, and all the world as 
 fresh and lovely as early summer could make it. 
 
 " Don't you think it's pretty nice here?" asked Bab, 
 as his eye came back to them after a long look, which 
 seemed to take in every thing, brightening as it roved. 
 
BEN GETS A PLACE. 39 
 
 ** Just the nicest place that ever was. Only needs a 
 horse roimd somewhere to be complete," answered Ben, 
 as the long well-sweep came up with a dripping bucket 
 at one end, an old grindstone at the other. 
 
 *' The Judge has three, but he's so fussy about them 
 he won't even let us pull a few hairs out of old Major's 
 tail to make rings of," said Betty, shutting her arith" 
 metic, with an injured expression. 
 
 " Mike lets me ride the white one to water when the 
 Judge isn't round. It 's such fun to go jouncing down 
 the lane and back. I do love horses ! " cried Bab, bob- 
 bing up and down on the blue bench to miitate the 
 motion of white Jenny. 
 
 *' I guess you are a plucky sort of a girl," and Ben 
 gave her an approving look as he went by, taking care 
 to slop a little water on Mrs. Puss, who stood curhng 
 her whiskers and humping up her back at Sancho. 
 
 "Come to breakfast!" called Mrs. Moss; and for 
 about twenty minutes Uttle was said, as mush and milk 
 vanished in a way that would have astonished even Jack 
 the Giant-killer with his leather bag. 
 
 " Now, girls, fly round and get your chores done up ; 
 Ben, you go chop me some kindlings ; and I '11 make 
 thinsjs tidv. Then we can all start off at once." said 
 Mrs. Moss, as the last mouthful vanished, and Sancho 
 licked his hps over the savory scraps that fell to his 
 share. 
 
 Ben fell to chopping so vigorously that chips flew 
 wildly all about the shed ; Bab rattled the cups into her 
 dish-pan with dangerous haste, and Betty raised a 
 cloud of dust " sweeping-up ; " while mother seemed to 
 be everywhere at once. Even Sanch, feeling that his 
 
40 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 fate was at stake, endeavored to help in his own some- 
 what erratic way, — now frisking about Ben at the risk 
 of getting his tail chopped off, then trotting away to 
 poke his inquisitive nose into every closet and room 
 whither he followed Mrs. Moss in her "flying round" 
 evolutions ; next dragging off the mat so Betty could 
 brush the door-steps, or inspecting Bab's dish-washing 
 by standing on his hind-legs to survey the table with 
 a critical air. When they drove him out he was not 
 the least offended, but gayly barked Puss up a tree, 
 chased all the hens over the fence, and carefully interred 
 an old shoe in the garden, where the remains of the 
 mutton-bone were already buried. 
 
 By the time the others were ready he nad worked off 
 his superfluous spirits, and trotted behind the party like 
 a well-behaved dog accustomed to go out walking with 
 ladies. At the cross-roads they separated, the little 
 girls running on to school, while Mrs. Moss and Ben 
 went up to the Squire's big house on the hill. 
 
 " Don't you be scared, child. I'll make it all right 
 about your running away ; and if the Squire gives you 
 a job, just thank him for it, and do your best to be 
 steady and industrious ; then you '11 get on, I haven't a 
 doubt," she whispered, ringing the bell at a side-door, 
 on which the word " Morris" shone in bright letters. 
 
 " Come in ! " called a gruff voice ; and, feehng very 
 oattch as if he were going to have a tooth out, Ben 
 meekly followed the good woman, who put on her 
 pleasantest smile, anxious to D»ake the best possible 
 impression. 
 
 A white-headed old gentleman sat reading a paper, 
 and peered over his glasses at the new-comers with a 
 
BEN GETS A PLACE. 4l 
 
 pair of sharp eyes, saying in a testy tone, which would 
 have rather daunted any one who did not know what a 
 kind heart he had under his capacious waistcoat, — 
 
 ''Good-morning, ma'am. What's the matter now? 
 Toung tramp been stealing your chickens ? " 
 
 "Oh, dear no, sir!" exclaimed Mrs. Moss, as if 
 shocked at the idea. Then, in a few words, she told Ben's 
 story, unconsciously making his wrongs and destitution 
 so pathetic by her looks and tones, that the Squii-e could 
 not help being interested, and even Ben pitied himself 
 as if he were somebody else. 
 
 "Now, then, boy, what cao f^ do?" asked the old 
 gentleman, with an approving B€>d to Mrs. Moss as she 
 finished, and such a keen glance fi'om under his bushy 
 brows that Ben felt as if he was perfectly transparent. 
 
 " 'Most any thing, sir, to get my livin'." 
 
 "Can you weed?" 
 
 " Never did, but I can learn, sir." 
 
 " Pull up aU the beets and leave the pigweed, hey? 
 Can you pick sti'awberries ? " 
 
 " Never tried any thing but eatin' 'em, sir." 
 
 " Not likely to forget that part of the job. Can you 
 ride a horse to plow ? " 
 
 "Guess I could, sir!" — and Ben's eyes began to 
 iparkle, for he dearly loved the noble animals who had 
 i>een his dearest friends lately, 
 
 " No antics allowed. My horse is a fine feUow, and 
 I 'm very particular about him." 
 
 The Squire spoke soberly, but there was a twinkle in 
 his eye, and Mrs. Moss tried not to smile ; for the Squire's 
 horse was a joke aU over the town, being about twenty 
 years old, and having a peculiar gait of his own, lifting 
 
42 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 his fore-feet very high, with a great show of speed, 
 though never goiog out of a jog-trot. The boja 
 used to say he galloped before and walked behind, 
 and made all sorts of fun of the big, Roman-nosed 
 beast, who allowed no liberties to be taken with 
 him. 
 
 "I'm too fond of horses to hurt *em, sir. As for 
 ndin*, I ain't afraid of any thing on four legs. The 
 King of Morocco used to kick and bite Hke ftm, but I 
 could manage him first-rate." 
 
 " Then you'd be able to driye cows to pasture, per- 
 haps?" 
 
 "I've drove elephants and camels, ostriches and 
 grizzly bears, and mules, and six yellow ponies all to 
 oncet. May be I could manage cows if I tried hard," 
 answered Ben, endeavoring to be meek and respectful 
 when scorn filled his soul at the idea of not being able 
 to drive a cow. 
 
 The Squire liked him all the better for the droll 
 mixture of indignation and amusement betrayed by 
 the fire in his eyes and the sly smile round his lips ; 
 and being rather tickled by Ben's list of animals, he 
 answered, gravely, — 
 
 " We don't raise elephants and camels much round 
 here Bears used to be plenty, but folks got tired of 
 them. Mules are numerous, but we have the two- 
 iegged kind; and as a general thing prefer Shanghae 
 fowls to ostriches." 
 
 He got no farther, for Ben laughed out so infec- 
 tiously that both the others joined him ; and somehow 
 that jolly laugh seemed to settle matters better than 
 words. As they stopped, the Squire tapped on the 
 
BEN GETS A PLACE. 43 
 
 window behind him, saying, with an attempt at the 
 former gruffness, — 
 
 *'We'll try you on cows awhile. My man will 
 show you where to drive them, and give you some 
 odd jobs through the day. I '11 see what you are good 
 for, and send you word to-night, Mrs. Moss. The 
 boy can sleep at your house, can't he ? '* 
 
 *' Yes, indeed, sir. He can go on domg it, and 
 come up to his work just as well as not. I can see 
 to him then, and he won't be ft care to any one," said 
 Mrs. Moss, heartily. 
 
 "I'll make inquiries concerning your father, boy, 
 meantime mind what you are about, and have a good 
 report to give when he cornea for you," returned the 
 Squire, with a warning wag of a stern fore-finger. 
 
 " Thanky', sir. I will, sir. Father '11 come just 
 as soon as he can, if he isn't sick or lost," mumiured 
 Ben, inwardly thanking his stars that he had not done 
 any thing to make him quake before that awful finger, 
 and resolving that he never would. 
 
 Here a red-headed Irishman came to the door, and 
 stood ejdng the boy with small favor while the Squire 
 gave his orders. 
 
 " Pat, this lad wants work. He's to take the cows 
 and go for them. Give him any light jobs you have, 
 and let me know if he 's good for any thing." 
 
 " Yis, your honor. Come out o' this, b'y, till I show 
 ye the bastes," responded Pat ; and, with a hasty good- 
 by to Mrs. Moss, Ben followed his new leader, sorely 
 tempted to play some naughty trick upon him in return 
 for his ungiacious reception. 
 
 But in a moment he forgot that Pat existed, foi 
 
44 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 in the yard stood the Duke of Wellington, so named 
 in honor of his Roman nose. K Ben had known any 
 thing about Shakspeare, he would have cried, ''A 
 horse, a horse ! — my kingdom for a horse ! " for the 
 feeling was in his heart, and he ran up to the stately 
 animal without a fear. Duke put back his ears and 
 swished his tail as if displeased for a moment ; but 
 Ben looked straight in his eyes, gave a scientific stroke 
 to the iron-gray nose, and uttered a chirrup which 
 made the ears prick up as if recognizing a familiar 
 Bound. 
 
 ''He'll nip ye, if ye go bothenn' that way. L'ave 
 him alone, and attind to the cattle as his honor tould 
 ye," commanded Pat, who made a great show of respect 
 toward Duke in public, and kicked him bnitally in 
 private. 
 
 "I ain't afraid! You won't hurt me, will you, old 
 feller? See there now ! — he knows I'm a Mend, and 
 takes to me right oflf," said Ben, with an arm around 
 Duke's neck, and his own cheek confidingly laid against 
 the animal's ; for the intelligent eyes spoke to him as 
 plainly as the little whinny which he understood and 
 accepted as a welcome. 
 
 The Squire saw it all from the open window, and 
 suspecting from Paf s face that trouble was brewing, 
 called out, — 
 
 '' Let the lad harness Duke, if he can. I'm going 
 out directly, and he may as well try that as any thing." 
 
 Ben was dehghted, and proved himself so brisk and 
 handy that the roomy chaise stood at the door in a 
 surprisingly short time, with a smiling little ostler at 
 Duke's head when the Squire came out. 
 
BEN GETS A PLACE. 45 
 
 His affection for the horse pleased the old gentleman, 
 and his neat way of harnessing suited as well ; but 
 Ben got no praise, except a nod and a brief " All right, 
 boy," as the equipage went creaking and jogging away. 
 
 Four sleek cows filed out of the barnyard when Pat 
 opened the gate, and Ben drove them down the road 
 to a distant pasture where the early grass awaited their 
 eager cropping. By the school they went, and the boy 
 looked pitjdngly at the black, brown, and yellow heads 
 bobbing past the windows as a class went up to recite ; 
 for it seemed a hard thing to the liberty-loving lad to 
 be shut up there so many hours on a morning like that. 
 
 But a little breeze that was playing truant round the 
 steps did Ben a service without knowing it, for a 
 sudden puff blew a torn leaf to his feet, and seeing a 
 picture he took it up. It evidently had fallen from 
 some ill-used history, for the picture showed some queer 
 ships at anchor, some oddly dressed men just landing, 
 and a crowd of Indians dancing about on the shore. 
 Ben spelt out all he could about these interesting 
 personages, but could not discover what it meant, 
 because ink evidently had deluged the page, to the 
 new reader's great disappointment. 
 
 "I'U ask the girls; may be they will know," said 
 Ben to himself as, after looking vainly for more stray 
 leaves, he trudged on, enjoying the bobolink's «ong. 
 the warm sunshine, and a comfortable sense of friendli- 
 ness and safety, which soon set him to whistling as 
 gayly as any blackbird in the meadow. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 A CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 
 
 AFTEE supper that night, Bab and Betty sat in tha 
 old porch placing with Josephus and Belinda^ 
 and discussing the events of the day ; for the appear- 
 ance of the strange boy and his dog had been a most 
 exating occurrence in their quiet hves. They had seen 
 nothing of him since morning, as he took his meals 
 at the Squire's, and was at work with Pat in a distant 
 fi(;ld when the children passed. Sancho had stuck 
 cbsely to his master, evidently rather bewildered by 
 the new order of things, and bound to see that no harm 
 hnppened to Ben. 
 
 "I wish they'd come. It's sundown, and I heard 
 the cows mooing, so I know they have gone home,*' 
 said Betty, impatiently ; for she regarded the new- 
 comer in the hght of an entertaining book, and wished 
 to read on as fast as possible. 
 
 ''I'm going to learn the signs he makes when he 
 wants Sancho to dance ; then we can have fun with 
 him whenever we like. He 's the dearest dog I ever 
 saw ! " answered Bab, who was fonder of animals than 
 her sister. 
 
 "Ma said — Ow, what's that?" cried Betty with a 
 start, as something bumped against the gate outside; 
 
A CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 47 
 
 and in a moment Ben's head peeped over the top aa he 
 swung himself up to the iron arch, in the middle of 
 which was the empty lantern frame. 
 
 " Please to locate, gentlemen ; please to locate. 
 The performance is about to begin with the great 
 Flyin' Coopid act, in which Master Bloomsbury has 
 appeared before the crowned heads of Europe. Pro- 
 nounced by all beholders the most remarkable youthful 
 progidy agoin*. Hooray ! here we are ! " 
 
 Having rattled off the familiar speech in Mr. Smithers*8 
 elegant manner, Ben began to cut up such capers that 
 even a party of dignified hens, going down the avenue 
 to bed, paused to look on with clucks of astonishment, 
 evidently fancying that salt had set him to fluttering 
 and tumbling as it did them. Never had the old gate 
 beheld such antics, though it had seen gay doings in 
 Its time ; for of all the boys who had chmbed over it, 
 not one had ever stood on his head upon each of the 
 big balls which ornamented the posts, hung by his 
 heels from the arch, gone round and round hke a wheel 
 with the bar for an axis, played a tattoo with his toea 
 while holding on by his chin, walked about the wall on 
 his hands, or closed the entertainment by festooning 
 himself in an airy posture over the side of the lantern 
 o-ame, and kissing his hand to the audience as a well- 
 bred Cupid is supposed to do on making his bow. 
 
 The little girls clapped and stamped enthusiastically, 
 while Sancho, who had been calmly surveying the show, 
 barked his approval as he leaped up to snap at Ben'a 
 feet. 
 
 '^ Come down and tell what you did up at the 
 Squire's. Was he cross? Did you have to work 
 
48 UNDER THE LILAC b. 
 
 hard? Do you like it?" asked Bab, when the noise 
 had subsided. 
 
 "It's cooler up here," answered Ben, composing 
 himself in the frame, and fanning his hot face with a 
 green spray broken from the tall bushes rustling odor- 
 ously all about him. " I did all sorts of jobs. The 
 old gentleman wasn't cross ; he gave me a dime, and 
 I like him first-rate. But I just hate ' Carrots ; ' he 
 swears at a feller, and fired a stick of wood at me. 
 Guess I '11 pay him off when I get a chance." 
 
 Fumbhng in his pocket to show the bright dime, he 
 found the torn page, and remembered the thirst for 
 information which had seized him in the morning. 
 
 " Look here, tell me about this, will you? What are 
 these chaps up to? The ink has spoilt all but the 
 picture and this bit of reading. I want to know what 
 it means. Take it to 'em, Sanch." 
 
 The dog caught the leaf as it fluttered to the ground, 
 and carrjing it carefully in his mouth, deposited it at 
 the feet of the little girls, seating himself before them 
 with an air of deep interest. Bab and Betty picked it 
 up and read it aloud in unison, while Ben leaned fi'om 
 his perch to listen and learn. 
 
 ** * When day dawned, land was visible. A pleasant 
 land it was. There were gay flowers, and tall trees 
 with leaves and fruit, such as they had never seen 
 before. On the shore were unclad copper-colored 
 men, gazing with wonder at the Spanish ships. They 
 took them for great birds, the white sails for their 
 wings, and the Spaniards for superior beings brought 
 down from heaven on their backs.' " 
 
 " Wliy, that's Columbus finding San Salvador. 
 
A CIRCULATING LIBRARY, 49 
 
 Don't you know about Mm?" demanded Bab, as if 
 she were one of the '* superior beings," and intimately 
 acquainted with the immortal Christopher. 
 
 "No, I don't. Who was he any way? I s'pose 
 that 's him paddlin' ahead ; but which of the Injuns is 
 Sam Salvindoor ? " asked Ben, rather ashamed of his 
 ignorance, but bent on finding out now he had begun. 
 
 " My gracious ! twelve years old and not know youi 
 Quackenbos ! " laughed Bab, much amused, but rather 
 glad to find that she could teach the " whirUgig 
 boy " something, for she considered him a remarkable 
 creature. 
 
 ''I don't care a bit for your quackin' boss, whoever 
 he is. Tell about this fine feller with the ships ; I hke 
 him" persisted Ben. 
 
 So Bab, with frequent intemiptions and hints from 
 Betty, told the wonderful tale in a simple way, which 
 made it easy to understand ; for «he Mked history, and 
 had a lively tongue of her own. 
 
 "I'd like to read some more. Would my ten cents 
 buy a book ? " asked Ben, anxious to learn a little since 
 Bab laughed at him. 
 
 "No, indeed! I'll lend you mine when I'm not 
 using it, and tell you all about it," promised Bab ; for- 
 getting that she did not know " all about it" herself 
 yet. 
 
 " I don't have any time only evenings, and then may 
 be you '11 want it," begun Ben, in whom the inky page 
 had roused a strong curiosity. 
 
 " I do get my history in the evening, but you could 
 have it mornings before school." 
 
 " I shall have to go off early, so there won't be any 
 3 n 
 
60 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 chance. Yes, there will, — I'll teU you how to do it. 
 Let me read while I diive up the sows. Squire Hkea 
 'em to eat slow along the road, so's to keep the grass 
 short and save mowin'. Pat said so, and I could do 
 history instead of loafin' round ! " cried Ben full of this 
 bright idea. 
 
 " How will I get my book back in time to recite?* 
 asked Bab, prudently. 
 
 " Oh, I'U leave it on the window-sill, or put it inside 
 the door as I go back. I 'U be real careful, and just as 
 soon as I earn enough, I 'U buy you a new one and take 
 the old one. Will you?" 
 
 "Yes; but I'll teU you a nicer way to do. Don't 
 put the book on the window, 'cause teacher will see 
 you ; or inside the door, 'cause some one may steal it. 
 You put it in my cubby-house, right at the corner of 
 the waU nearest the big maple. You'U find a cunning 
 place between the roots that stick up under the flat 
 stone. That 's my closet, and I keep things there. It 's 
 the best cubby of all, and we take turns to have 
 it." 
 
 "I'U find it, and that'll be a first-rate place," said 
 Ben, much gratified. 
 
 " I could put my reading-book in sometimes, if you'd 
 like it. There 's lots of pretty stories in it and pictures,'* 
 proposed Betty, rather timidly ; for she wanted to share 
 the benevolent project, but had little to offer, not being 
 as good a scholar as bright Bab. 
 
 "I'd like a 'rithmetic better. I read tip-top, but I 
 ain't much on 'rithmetic ; so, if you can spare yours, 
 I might take a look at it. Now I'm goin' to earn 
 wages, I ought to know about addin' 'em up, and so on," 
 
A CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 61 
 
 said Een, with the air of a Vanderbilt oppressed with 
 the care of miUions. 
 
 "I'll teach you that. Betty doesn't know much 
 about sums. But she spells splendidly, and is always 
 at the head of her class. Teacher is real proud of her, 
 'cause she never misses, and spells hard, fussy words, 
 like chi-rog-ra-phy and hron-chi-tis as easy as any thing." 
 
 Bab quite beamed with sisterly pride, and Betty 
 smoothed down her apron with modest satisfaction, 
 for Bab seldom praised her, and she liked it very much. 
 
 " I never went to school, so that's the reason I ain't 
 smart. I can write, tuouga, better 'n some of the boys 
 up at school. I saw lots of names on the shed door. 
 See here, now," — and scrambling down, Ben pulled out 
 a cherished bit of chalk, and flourished off ten letters of 
 the alphabet, one on each of the dark stone slabs that 
 paved the walk. 
 
 '' Those are beautiful I I can't make such curly ones. 
 Who taught you to do it?" asked Bab, as she and 
 Betty walked up and down admiring them. 
 
 " Horse blankets," answered Ben, soberly. 
 
 '' What I " cried both girls, stopping to stare. 
 
 " Our horses all had their names on their blankets, 
 and I used to copy 'em. The wagons had signs, and I 
 learned to read that way after father taught me my 
 letters off the red and yellow posters. First word I 
 knew was lion^ 'cause I was always goin' to see old 
 Jubal in his cage. Father was real proud when I read 
 it right off. I can draw one, too." 
 
 Ben proceeded to depict an animal intended to repre- 
 sent his lost friend ; but Jubal would not have recognized 
 his portrait, since it looked much more like Sancho than 
 
52 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 the king of the forest. The children admired it im- 
 mensely, however, and Ben gave them a lesson in 
 natural histor}^ which was so interesting that it kept 
 them busy and happy till bedtime ; for the boy described 
 what he had seen in such lively language, and illus- 
 trated in such a droll way, it was no wonder they were 
 charmed. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 NEW FRIENDS TROT IN, 
 
 NEXT day Ben ran off to his work with Quacken 
 bos's " Elementary History of the United States** 
 in his pocket, and the Squire's cows had ample time to 
 breakfast on wayside grass before they were put into 
 their pasture. Even then the pleasant lesson was not 
 ended, for Ben had an errand to town ; and all the way 
 he read busily, tumbhng over the hard words, and leav- 
 ing bits which he did not understand to be explained at 
 night by Bab. 
 
 At " The Fkst Settlements" he had to stop, for the 
 schoolhouse was reached, and the book must be re- 
 turned. The maple-tree closet was easily found, and a 
 little surprise hidden under the flat stone ; for Ben paid 
 two sticks of red and white candy for the privilege jf 
 taking books from the new library. 
 
 When recess came, great was the rejoicing of the 
 children over their unexpected treat, for Mrs. Moss had 
 few pennies to spare for sweets, and, somehow, this 
 candy tasted particularly nice, bought out of grateful 
 Ben's sohtary dime. The httle girls shared their goodies 
 with their favorite mates, but said nothing about the 
 new arrangement, fearing it would be spoilt if generally 
 known. They told their mother, however, and she gave 
 
54 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 them leave to lend theii* books and encourage Ben to 
 love learning all they could. She also proposed that 
 they should drop patch- work, and help her make some 
 blue shirts for Ben. Mrs. Barton had given her the 
 materials, and she thought it would be an excellent 
 lesson in needle-work as well as a useful gift to Ben, — 
 who, boy-like, never troubled himself as to what he 
 should wear when his one suit of clothes gave out. 
 
 Wednesday afteiTJoon was the sewing time ; so the 
 two httle B's worked busily at a pair of shirt-sleeves, 
 sitting on their bench in the doorway, while the rusty 
 needles creaked in and out, and the childish voices 
 sang school-songs, with frequent stoppages for hvely 
 chatter. 
 
 For a week, Ben worked away bravely, and never 
 shirked nor complained, although Pat put many a hard 
 or disagreeable job upon him, and chores grew more and 
 more distasteful. His only comfort was the knowledge 
 that ]Mrs. Moss and the Squire were satisfied with him ; 
 his only pleasure the lessons he learned while driving 
 the cows, and recited in the evening when the three 
 children met under the lilacs to "play school." 
 
 He had no thought of studying when he began, and 
 hardly knew that he was doing it as he pored over the 
 different books he took from the hbrary. But the little 
 girls tried him with all they possessed, and he was mor- 
 tified to find how ignorant he was. He never owned it 
 in words, but gladly accepted all the bits of knowledge 
 they offered from their small store ; getting Betty to 
 hear him spell "just for fun ; " agreeing to draw Bab all 
 the bears and tigers she wanted if she would show him 
 how to do sums on the flags, and often beguiled his 
 
NEW FRIENDS TROT IN. 65 
 
 lonely labors by trying to chant the multiphcation table 
 as they did. When Tuesday night came round, the 
 Squire paid him a doUar, said he was " a likely boy," 
 and might stay another week if he chose. Ben thanked 
 him and thought he would ; but the next morning, after 
 he had put up the bars, he remained sitting on the top 
 raU to consider his prospects, for he felt uncommonly 
 reluctant to go back to the society of rough Pat. Like 
 most boys, he hated work, unless it was of a sort which 
 just suited him ; then he could toil like a beaver and 
 never tire. His wandering life had given him no habits 
 of steady industry; and, while he was an unusually 
 capable lad of his age, he dearly loved to " loaf" about 
 and have a good deal of variety and excitement in his 
 life. 
 
 Now he saw nothing before him but days of patient 
 and very uninteresting labor. He was heartily sick of 
 weeding; even riding Duke before the cultivator had 
 lost its charms, and a great pile of wood lay in the 
 Squire's yard, which he knew he would be set to piling 
 up in the^hed. Strawberry-picking would soon foUow 
 the asparagus cultivation ; then hajdng ; and so on all 
 the long bright summer, without any fun, unless his 
 father came for him. 
 
 On the other hand, he was not obliged to stay a 
 minute longer unless he liked. With a comfortable suit 
 of clothes, a dollar in his pocket, and a row of dinner- 
 baskets hanging in the school-house entry to supply him 
 with provisions if he didn't mind stealing them, what 
 was easier than to run away again ? Tramping has its 
 charms in fair weather, and Ben had lived like a gypsy 
 under canvas for years ; so he feared nothing, and began 
 
56 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 to look down the leafy road with a restless, wistful 
 expression, as the temptation grew stronger and stronger 
 every minute. 
 
 Bancho seemed to share the longing, for he kept 
 running off a little way and stopping to frisk and bark ; 
 then rushed back to sit watching his master with those 
 intelligent eyes of his, which seemed to say, * ' Come 
 on, Ben, let us scamper down this pleasant road and 
 never stop till we are tired." Swallows darted by, white 
 clouds fied before the balmy west wind, a squirrel ran 
 along the wall, and all things seemed to echo the boy's 
 desire to leave toil behind and roam away as care-free 
 as they. One thing restrained him, — the thought of 
 Ms seeming ingratitude to good JMrs. Moss, and the 
 disappointment of the httle girls at the loss of their' 
 two new play-fellows. "^^Tiile he paused to think of this, 
 something happened which kept him from doing what he 
 would have been sure to regret afterward. 
 
 Horses had always been his best friends, and one 
 came trotting up to help him now ; though he did not 
 know how much he owed it tiQ long after. Just in the 
 act of swinging himself over the bars to take a short 
 cut across the fields, the sound of approaching hoofs, 
 unaccompanied by the roll of wheels, caught his ear ; 
 and, pausing, he watched eagerly to see who was 
 coming at such a pace. 
 
 At the turn of the road, however, the quick trot 
 stopped, and in a moment a lady on a bay mare came 
 pacing slowly into sight, — a young and pretty lady, all 
 in dark blue, with a bunch of dandelions uke yellow 
 stars in her button-hole, and a silver-handled whip 
 hanging from the pommel of her saddle, evidently 
 
NJSW FRIENDS TROT IN. 57 
 
 more for ornament than use. The handsome mare 
 limped a little, and shook her head as if something 
 plagued her; while her mistress leaned down to see 
 what was the matter, saying, as if she expected an 
 answer of some sort, — 
 
 *' Now, Chevahta, if you have got a stone in youi 
 foot, I shall have to get off and take it out. Why 
 don't you look where you step, and save me all this 
 trouble?'* 
 
 *'I*11 look for you, ma'am; I'd like to!" said an 
 eager voice so unexpectedly, that both horse and rider 
 started as a boy came down the bank with a jump. 
 
 ^' I wish you would. You need not be afraid ; Lita is 
 as gentle as a lamb," answered the young lady, smiling, 
 as if amused by the boy's earnestness. 
 
 ''She's a beauty, any way," muttered Ben, lifting 
 one foot after another till he found the stone, and with 
 some trouble got it out. 
 
 "That was nicely done, and I'm much obliged. 
 Can you tell me if that cross-road leads to the Elms ? " 
 asked the lady, as she went slowly on with Ben beside 
 her. 
 
 "No, ma'am; I'm new in these parts, and I only 
 know where Squire Morris and Mrs. Moss live." 
 
 " I want to see both of them, so suppose you show 
 aae the way. I was here long ago, and thought I should 
 remember how to find the old house with the elm avenue 
 and the big gate, but I don't." 
 
 " I know it ; they call that place the Lay locks now, 
 'cause there 's a hedge of 'em all down the path and 
 front wall. It 's a real pretty place ; Bab and Bett^ 
 play there, and so do I." 
 a* 
 
58 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Ben could not restrain a chuckle at the recollection 
 of his first appearance there, and, as if his meiTiment 
 or his words interested her, the lady said pleasantly, 
 *'Tell me all about it. Are Bab and Betty youi 
 sisters ? " 
 
 Quite forgetting his intended tramp, Ben plunged into 
 a copious history of himself and new-made friends, led 
 on by a kind look, an inquiring word, and sympathetic 
 smUe, till he had told every thing. At the school-house 
 comer he stopped and said, spreading his arms like a 
 sign-post, — 
 
 " That's the way to the Laylocks, and this is the way 
 to the Squire's." 
 
 " As I 'm in a hurry to see the old house, I '11 go this 
 way first, if you will be kind enough to give my love to 
 Mrs. Morris, and tell the Squire Miss Celia is coming 
 to dine with him. I won't say good-by, because I shall 
 see you again." 
 
 With a nod and a smile, the young lady cantered 
 away, and Ben hurried up the hill to dehver his message, 
 feeling as if something pleasant was going to happen ; 
 so it would be wise to defer running away, for the pres- 
 ent at least. 
 
 At one o'clock Miss Celia arrived, and Ben had the 
 delight of helping Pat stable pretty Chevalita ; then, hia 
 own dinner hastily eaten, he fell to work at the detested 
 wood-pile with sudden energy; for as he worked he 
 could steal peeps into the dining-room, and see the curly 
 brown head between the two gray ones, as the three sat 
 round the table. He could not help hearing a word 
 now and then, as the windows were open, and these 
 bits of conversation filled him with curiosity; for the 
 
NEW FRIENDS TROT IN. 59 
 
 names "Thorny," "Celia," and "George" were often 
 repeated, and an occasional merry laugh from the 
 young lady sounded like music in that usually quiet 
 place. 
 
 When dinner was over, Ben's industrious fit left him, 
 and he leisurely trundled his barrow to and fro till the 
 guest departed. There was no chance for him to help 
 now, since Pat, anxious to get whatever trifle migiit be 
 offered for his services, was quite devoted in his atten- 
 tions to the mare and her mistress, till she was mounted 
 and off. But Miss Celia did not forget her little guide, 
 and, spying a wistful face behind the wood-pile, paused 
 at the gate and beckoned with that winning smile of 
 hers. If ten Pats had stood scowling in the way, Ben 
 would have defied them all; and, vaulting over the 
 fence, he ran up with a shining face, hoping she wanted 
 some last favor of him. Leaning down. Miss Celia 
 slipped a new quarter into his hand, saying, — 
 
 "Lita wants me to give you this for taking the 
 stone out of her foot." 
 
 "Thanlf y', ma^am; I liked to do it, for I hate to 
 see 'em limp, 'specially such a pretty one as she is," 
 answered Ben, stroking the glossy neck with a loving 
 touch. 
 
 "The Squire says you know a good deal about 
 horses, so I suppose you understand the Houyhnhnm 
 language? I'm learning it, and it is very nice," 
 laughed Miss Celia, as Chevalita gave a little whinny 
 and snuggled her nose into Ben's pocket. 
 
 "No, miss, I never went to school." 
 
 "That is not taught there. I '11 bring you a book all 
 about it when I come back. Mr. Gulliver went to the 
 
60 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 horse-country and heard the dear things speak their own 
 tongne." 
 
 '*My father has been on the prairies, where there's 
 lots of wild ones, but he didn't hear 'em speak. I know 
 what they want without talkin," answered Ben, sus- 
 pecting a joke, but not exactly seeing what it was. 
 
 " I don't doubt it, but I won't forget the book. 
 Good-by, my lad, we shall soon meet again," and 
 away went Miss Celia as if she were in a hurry to get 
 back. 
 
 " If she only had a red habit and a streamin' white 
 feather, she 'd look as fine as 'Melia used to. She is 
 'most as kind and rides 'most as well. Wonder where 
 she 's goin' to. Hope she will come soon," thought Ben, 
 watching till the last flutter of the blue habit vanished 
 round the corner ; and then he went back to his work 
 with his head lull of the promised book, pausing now 
 and then to chink the two silver halves and the new 
 quarter together in his pocket, wondering what he should 
 buy with this vast sum. 
 
 Bab and Betty meantime had had a most exciting day ; 
 for when they went home at noon they found the pretty 
 lady there, and she had talked to them like an old Mend, 
 given them a ride on the httle horse, and kissed them 
 both good-by when they went back to school. In the 
 afternoon the lady was gone, the old house all open, 
 and their mother sweeping, dusting, airing, in great 
 spirits. So they had a splendid frolic tumbling on 
 feather beds, beating bits of carpet, opening closets, 
 and racing from garret to cellar like a pair of distracted 
 kittens. 
 
 Here Ben found them, and was at once overwhelmed 
 
NEW FRIENDS TROT IN. 61 
 
 with a burst of news which excited him as much as it 
 did them. Miss Celia owned the house, was coming 
 to live there, and things were to be made ready as soon 
 as possible. All thought the prospect a charming one ; 
 Mrs. Moss, because life had been dull for her during the 
 year she had taken charge of the old house ; the little 
 girls had heard rumors of various pets who were com- 
 ing ; and Ben, learning that a boy and a donkey were 
 among them, resolved that nothing but the arrival of 
 his father should tear him from this now deeply inter- 
 esting spot. 
 
 *' I'm in suck a hurry to see the peacocks and hear 
 them scream. She said they did, and that we 'd laugh 
 when old Jack brayed," cried Bab, hopping about on 
 one foot to work off her impatience. 
 
 "Is a faytun a kind of a bird? I heard her say 
 she could keep it in the coach-house," asked Betty, 
 mquiringly. 
 
 "It's a little carriage," and Ben rolled in the grass, 
 much tickled at poor Betty's ignorance. 
 
 " Of course it is. I looked it out in tJie die, and you 
 mustn't call it a payton, though it is spelt with a p,'* 
 added Bab, who liked to lay down the law on all occa- 
 sions, and did not mention that she had looked vainly 
 among the f 's till a school-mate set her right. 
 
 " You can't tell me much about carriages. But wha* 
 I want to know is where Lita will stay ? " said Ben. 
 
 "Oh, she's to be up at the Squire's till things are 
 fixed, and you are to bring her down. Squire came and 
 told Ma all about it, and said you were a boy to be 
 trusted, for he had tried you." 
 
 Ben made no answer, but secretly thanked his stars 
 
62 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 that he had not proved himself untrustworthy by run- 
 ning away, and so missing all this fun. 
 
 "Won't it be fine to have the house open all the time? 
 We can run over and see the pictures and books when- 
 ever we like. I know we can, Miss Celia is so kind," 
 began Betty, who cared for these things more than for 
 screaming peacocks and comical donkeys. 
 
 "Not unless you are invited," answered their 
 mother, locking the front door behind her. "You 'd 
 better begin to pick up your duds right away, for she 
 won't want them cluttering round her front yard. If 
 you are not too tired, Ben, you might rake round a 
 little while I shut the blinds. I want things to look 
 nice and tidy." 
 
 Two little groans went up from two afflicted little 
 girls as they looked about them at the shady bower, 
 the dear porch, and the winding walks where they 
 loved to run "till their hair whistled in the wind," as 
 the fairy-books say. 
 
 "Whatever shall we do! Our attic is so hot and 
 the shed so small, and the yard always full of hens 
 or clothes. We shall have to pack all our things 
 away, and never play any more," said Bab, tragically. 
 
 "May be Ben could build us a little house in the 
 orchard," proposed Betty, who firmly believed that 
 Ben could do any thing. 
 
 "He won't have any time. Boys don't care for 
 baby-houses," returned Bab, collecting her homeless 
 goods and chattels with a dismal face. 
 
 "We sha'n't want these much when all the new 
 things come; see if we do," said cheerful little Betty, 
 who always found out a silver lining to every cloud. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MISS CELIACS MAN. 
 
 BEN wafi not too tired, and the clearing-up oegan 
 that very night. None too soon, for in a day or 
 two things arrived, to the great delight of the children, 
 who considered moving a most interesting play. First 
 came the phaeton, which Ben spent all his leisure mo- 
 ments in admiring ; wondering with secret envy what 
 happy boy would ride in the little seat up behind, and 
 beguiling his tasks by planning how, when he got rich, 
 he would pass his time driving about in just such an 
 equipage, and inviting all the boys he met to have a 
 ride. 
 
 Then a load of furniture came creaking in at the 
 lodge gate, and the gMs had raptures over a cottage 
 piano, several small chairs, and a little low table, which 
 they pronounced just the thing for them to play at. 
 The live stock appeared next, creating a great stir in 
 the neighborhood, for peacocks were rare birds there ; 
 the donkey's bray startled the cattle and convulsed the 
 people with laughter ; the rabbits were continually get- 
 ting out to burrow in the newly made garden ; and 
 Chevahta scandalized old Duke by dancing about the 
 stable wnich he had inhabited for years in stately 
 sohtude. 
 
64 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Last but by no means least, Miss Celia, her young 
 brother, and two maids arrived one evening so late that 
 only Mrs. Moss went over to help them settle. The 
 children were much disappointed, but were appeased by 
 a promise that they should all go to pay their respects 
 in the morning. 
 
 . They were up so early, and were so impatient to be 
 off, that ]^Irs. Moss let them go with the warning that 
 they would find only the servants astir. She was mis- 
 taken, however, for, as the procession approached, a 
 voice from the porch called out, " Good-morning, 
 little neighbors ! " so unexpectedly, that Bab nearly 
 spilt the new milk she carried, Betty gave such a start 
 that the fresh-laid eggs quite skipped in the dish, and 
 Ben's face broke into a broad grin over the armful of 
 clover which he brought for the bunnies, as he bobbed 
 his head, saying briskly, — 
 
 " She's all right, miss, Lita is ; and I can bring her 
 over any minute you say." 
 
 " I shall want her at four o'clock. Thorny will be 
 too tired to drive, but I must hear from the post-office, 
 rain or shine ; " and Miss Celia's pretty color brightened 
 as she spoke, either from some happy thought or because 
 she was bashful, for the honest young faces before her 
 plainly showed their admiration of the white-gowned 
 lady under the honeysuckles. 
 
 The appearance of ISIiranda, the maid, reminded the 
 children of their errand ; and, having dehvered their 
 offerings, they were about to retire in some confusion, 
 when Miss Ceha said pleasantly, — 
 
 " I want to thank you for helping put things in such 
 nice order. I see simas of bus^ hands and feet both 
 
MISS CELIACS MAN. 65 
 
 inside the house and all about the grounds, and I am 
 very much obliged." 
 
 " I raked the beds," said Ben, proudly eying the neat 
 ovals and circles. 
 
 " I swept all the paths," added Bab, witb a reproach 
 fhl glance at several green sprigs fallen from the load 
 of clover on the smooth walk. 
 
 " I cleared up the porch," and Betty's clean pinafore 
 rose and fell with a long sigh, as she surveyed the late 
 summer residence of her exiled family. 
 
 Miss Celia guessed the meaning of that sigh, and 
 made haste to turn it into a smile by asking anx- 
 iously, — 
 
 " What has become of the playthings? I don't see 
 them an^^where." 
 
 "Ma said you wouldn't want our duds round, so 
 we took them all home," answered Betty, with a wistful 
 face. 
 
 " But I do want them round. I like dolls and toys 
 almost as much as ever, and quite miss the little 
 ' duds ' from porch and path. Suppose you come to 
 tea with me to-night and bring some of them back ? I 
 should be very sorry to rob you of your pleasant play- 
 place." 
 
 ''Oh, yes, 'm, we'd love to come! and weTl bring 
 our best things." 
 
 "Ma always lets us have our shiny pitchers and th^ 
 china poodle when we go visiting or have company at 
 home," said Bab and Betty, both speaking at once. 
 
 " Bring what you like, and I '11 hunt up my toys, too 
 Ben is to come also, and his poodle is especially in- 
 vited," added Miss Celia, as Sancho came and begged 
 
t)6 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 before her, feeling that some agreeable project was 
 under discussion. 
 
 "Thank you, miss. I told them you'd be willing 
 they should come sometimes. They like this place ever 
 so much, and so do I," said Ben, feeling that few spots 
 combined so many advantages in the way of climbable 
 trees, arched gates, half-a-dozen gables, and other 
 charms suited to the taste of an aspiring youth who 
 had been a fl^ang Cupid at the age of seven. 
 
 " So do I," echoed Miss Celia, heartily. " Ten years 
 ago I came here a little girl, and made lilac chains 
 under these very bushes, and picked chickweed over 
 there for my bird, and rode Thorny in his baby-wagon 
 up and down these paths. Grandpa lived here then, 
 and we had fine times ; but now they are all gone except 
 us two." 
 
 "We haven't got any father, either," said Bab, for 
 something in Miss Ceha's face made her feel as if a 
 cloud had come over the sun. 
 
 *'/ have a first-rate father, if I only knew where 
 he'd gone to," said Ben, looking down the path as 
 eagerly as if some one waited for him behind the locked 
 gate. 
 
 " You are a rich boy, and you are happy little girls 
 to have so good a mother ; I 've found that out already,** 
 and the sun shone again as the young lady nodded tfi 
 the neat, rosy children before her. 
 
 " You may have a piece of her if you want to, 'cause 
 you haven't got any of your own," said Betty, with a 
 Ditiful look which made her blue eyes as sweet as two 
 wet violets. 
 
 " So I will! and you shall be my little sisters. I 
 
MISS CELIACS MAN. 67 
 
 never had any, and I 'd love to try how it seems ; " and 
 Miss Celia took both the chubby hands in hers, feeling 
 ready to love every one this first bright morning in 
 the new home, which she hoped to make a very happy 
 one. 
 
 Bab gave a satisfied nod, and fell to examining the 
 nngs upon the white hand that held her own. But 
 Betty put her arms about the new friend's neck, and 
 kissed her so softly that the hungry feehng in Miss 
 Celia's heart felt better directly ; for this was the food 
 it wanted, and Thorny had not learned yet to return 
 one half of the aflection he received. Holding the 
 child close, she played with the yellow braids while she 
 told them about the little German girls in their funny 
 black-silk caps, short-waisted gowns, and wooden shoes, 
 whom she used to see watering long webs of linen 
 bleaching on the grass, watching great flocks of geese, 
 or driving pigs to market, knitting or spinning as they 
 went. 
 
 Presently " Randa," as she called her stout maid, 
 came to tell her that "Master Thorny couldn't wait 
 another minute ; " and she went in to breakfast with a 
 good api^etite, while the children raced home to bounce 
 in upon Mrs. Moss, taMng all at once like little 
 lunatics. 
 
 " The phaeton at four, — so sweet in a beautiful white 
 gown, — going to tea, and Sancho and all the baby 
 things invited. Can't we wear our Sunda}^ frocks ? A 
 splendid new net for Lita. And she hkes dolls. Goody, 
 good}^, won't it be fun ! " 
 
 With much difficulty their mother got a clear account 
 of the approaching festivity out of the eager mouths. 
 
68 UNDER THE LILACi*. 
 
 and with, still more difficulty got breakfast into them, 
 for the children had few pleasures, and this brilliant 
 prospect rather turned their heads. 
 
 Bab and Betty thought the day would never end, and 
 cheered the long hours by expatiating on the pleasures 
 in store for them, till their plaj^mates were much af« 
 flicted because they were not going also. At noon theix 
 mother kept them from running over to the old house 
 lest they should be in the way ; so they consoled them 
 selves by going to the s3Tinga bush at the corner and 
 sniffing the savory odors which came from the kitchen, 
 where Katy, the cook, was evidently making nice things 
 for tea. 
 
 Ben worked as if for a wager till four ; then stood 
 over Pat while he curried Lita till her coat shone hke 
 satin, then di'ove her gently down to the coach-house, 
 where he had the satisfaction of harnessing her " all 
 Ms own self." 
 
 *' Shall I go round to the great gate and wait for you 
 there, miss ? " he asked, when all was ready, looking up 
 at the porch, where the young lady stood watching him 
 as she put on her gloves. 
 
 "No, Ben, the great gate is not to be opened till 
 next October. I shall go in and out by the lodge, and 
 leave the avenue to grass and dandehons, meantime," 
 answered Miss Celia, as she stepped in and took the 
 reins, with a sudden smile. 
 
 But she did not start, even when Ben had shaken 
 out the new duster and laid it neatly over her knees. 
 
 '' Isn't it all right now?" asked the boy, anxiously. 
 
 " Not quite ; I need one thing more. Can't you guess 
 what it is ? " — and Miss Ceha watched his anxious face 
 
MISS CELIACS MAN. (59 
 
 as his eyes wandered from the tips of Lita's ears to the 
 hind- wheel of the phaeton, trying to discover what had 
 Deen omitted. 
 
 " No, miss, I don't see — " he began, much mortified 
 to think he had forgotten any thing. 
 
 " Wouldn't a httle groom up behind improve the ap- 
 pearance of mj turnout?" she said, with a look which 
 iefl no doubt in his mind that he was to be the happy 
 boy to occupy that proud perch. 
 
 He grew red with pleasure, but stammered, as he 
 nesitated, looking down at his bare feet and blue 
 shirt, — 
 
 •' I ain't fit, miss ; and I have n't got any other 
 clothes." 
 
 Miss Celia only smiled again more kindly than before, 
 and answered, in a tone which he understood better than 
 her words, — 
 
 " A great man said his coat-of-arms was a pair of 
 shirt-sleeves, and a sweet poet sung about a barefooted 
 bo}" ; so I need not be too proud to ride with one. Up 
 with you, Ben, my man, and let us be off, or we shall 
 be late for our part}^" 
 
 With one bound the new groom was in his place, 
 sitting very erect, with his legs stiff, arms folded, and 
 nose in the air, as he had seen real grooms sit behind 
 their masters in fine dog-carts or carriages. Mrs. Moss. 
 nodded as they drove past the lodge, and Ben touched 
 his torn hat-brim in the most dignified manner, though 
 he could not suppress a broad grin of delight, which 
 deepened into a chuckle when Lita went off at a brisk 
 trot along the smooth road toward town. 
 
 It takes so little to make a child happy, it is a pity 
 
70 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 grown people do not oftener remember it and scattei 
 little bits of pleasure before the small people, as the}^ 
 throw crumbs to the hungry sparrows. Miss Ceha knew 
 the bo}^ was pleased, but he had no words in which to 
 express his gratitude for the great contentment she had 
 given him. He could only beam at all he met, smile 
 when the floating ends of the gray veil blew against his 
 face, and long in his heart to give the new friend a 
 boyish hug, as he used to do his dear 'Meha when she 
 was very good to him. 
 
 School was just out as they passed ; and it was a 
 spectacle, I assure you, to see the boys and girls stare 
 at Ben up aloft in such state ; also to see the superb 
 indifference with which that young man regarded the 
 vulgar herd who went afoot. He could not resist an 
 affable nod to Bab and Betty, for they stood under the 
 maple-tree, and the memory of their circulating hbrary 
 made him forget his dignity in his gratitude. 
 
 "We will take them next time, but now I want to 
 talk to you," began Miss Celia, as Lita climbed the 
 hill. "My brother has been ill, and I have brought 
 him here to get well. I want to do all sorts of things 
 to amuse him, and I think you can help me in many 
 ways. Would you like to work for me instead of the 
 Squire?" 
 
 " I guess I would ! " ejaculated Ben, so heartily that 
 no further assurances were needed, and Miss Celia went 
 on, well pleased : — 
 
 " You see, poor Thorny is weak and fretful, and does 
 not like to exert himself, though he ought to be out a 
 great deal, and kept from thinking of his little troubles. 
 He cannot walk much yet, so I have a wheeled chaii 
 
MISS CELIACS MAN. 71 
 
 to push him in ; and the paths are so hard, it wiE be 
 easy to roll him about. That will be one thing you 
 can do. Another is to take care of his pets till he is 
 able to do it himself. Then you can tell him youi 
 adventures, and talk to him as only a boy can talk to 
 a boy. That will amuse him when I want to write or 
 go out ; but I never leave him long, and hope he wiH 
 soon be running about as well as the rest of us. How 
 does that sort of work look to you ? " 
 
 *' First-rate! I'll take real good care of the little 
 feller, and do every thing I know to please him, and so 
 will Sanch ; he 's fond of children," answered Ben, 
 heartily, for the new place looked very inviting to him. 
 
 Miss Ceha laughed, and rather damped his ardor 
 by her next words. 
 
 " I don't know what Thorny would say to hear you 
 call him ' little.' He is fourteen, and appears to get 
 taller and taller every day. He seems like a child to 
 me, because I am nearly ten years older than he is ; but 
 you needn't be afraid of his long legs and big eyes, — 
 he is too feeble to do any harm ; only you mustn't 
 mind if he orders you about." 
 
 " I 'm used to that. I don't mind it if he won't call 
 me a ' spalpeen,' and fire things at me," said Ben, 
 thinking of his late trials with Pat. 
 
 " I can promise that ; and I am sure Thorny will like 
 you, for I told him your story, and he is anxious to see 
 ' the circus boy,' as he called you. Squire Allen says 
 I may trust you, and I am glad to do so, for it saves 
 me much trouble to find what I want all ready for me. 
 You shall be weU fed and clothed, kindly treated and 
 honestly paid, if jon like to stay with me." 
 
72 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 ^' 1 know I shall like it — till father comes, anyway. 
 Squire wrote to Smithers right off, but hasn't got any 
 answer yet. I know they are on the go now, so may 
 be we won't hear for ever so long," answered Ben, 
 feehng less impatient to be off than before this fine 
 proposal was made to him. 
 
 " I dare say ; meantime, we will see how we get on 
 together, and perhaps your father will be willing to leave 
 you for the summer if he is awa3^ Now show me 
 the baker's, the candy-shop, and the post-office," said 
 Miss Ceha, as they rattled down the main street of the 
 village. 
 
 Ben made himself useful; and when all the other 
 errands were done, received his reward in the shape of 
 a new pair of shoes and a straw hat with a streaming 
 blue ribbon, on the ends of which shone silvery anchors. 
 He was also allowed to drive home, while his new mi<5tress 
 read her letters. One particularly long one. with a queer 
 stamp on the envelope, she read twice, never speaking 
 a word till they got back. Then Ben was sent off with 
 Lit a and the Squire's letters, promising to get his chores 
 done in time for tea. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 A HAPPY TEA, 
 
 EXACTLY five minutes before six the party amyed 
 in great state, for Bab and Betty wore their best 
 frocks and hair-ribbons, Ben had a new blue shirt and 
 his shoes on as full-dress, and Sancho's curls were nicely 
 brushed, his frills as white as if just done up. 
 
 No one was visible to receive them, but the low table 
 stood in the middle of the walk, with four chairs and a 
 foot-stool around it. A pretty set of green and white 
 china caused the girls to cast admiring looks upon the 
 little cups and plates, while Ben eyed the feast long- 
 ingly, and Sancho with difficulty restrained himself from 
 repeating his former naughtiness. No wonder the dog 
 sniped and the children smiled, for there was a noble 
 display of httle tarts and cakes, little biscuits and sand- 
 wiches, a pretty milk-pitcher shaped like a white calla 
 rising out of its green leaves, and a jolly little tea 
 kettle singing away over the spirit-lamp as cosily as 
 you please. 
 
 "Isn't it perfectly lovely?" whispered Betty, who 
 had never seen any thing like it before. 
 
 " I just wish Sally could see us now" answered Bab, 
 who had not yet forgiven her enemy. 
 
 *' Wonder where the boy is," added Ben, feeling as 
 4 
 
74 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 good as any one, but rather doubtful how others might 
 regard him. 
 
 Here a rumbling sound caused the guests to look 
 toward the garden, and in a moment Miss Celia ap- 
 peared, pushing a wheeled chair, in which sat her 
 brother. A gay afghan covered the long legs, a broad- 
 brimmed hat half hid the big eyes, and a discontented 
 expression made the thin face as unattractive as the 
 fretful voice, which said, complainingly, — 
 
 " If they make a noise, I '11 go in. Don't see what 
 you asked them for." 
 
 " To amuse you, dear. I know they will, if you will 
 only try to lik:e them," whispered the sister, smiling and 
 nodding over the chair-back as she came on, adding 
 aloud, " Such a punctual party ! I am all ready, how- 
 ever, and we will sit down at once. This is my brother 
 Thornton, and we are all going to be very good fi-ienda 
 by-and-by. Here 's the droll dog. Thorny ; isn't he nice 
 and curly ? " 
 
 Now, Ben had heard what the other boy said, and 
 made up his mind that he shouldn't like him ; and Thorny 
 had decided beforehand that he wouldn't play with a 
 tramp, even if he could cut capers ; so both looked 
 decidedly cool and indifferent when Miss Ceha intro- 
 duced them. But Sancho had better manners, and no 
 foohsh pride ; he, therefore, set them a good example 
 by approaching the chair, with his tail waving like a 
 flag of truce, and politely presented his ruffled paw for 
 a hearty shake. 
 
 Thorny could not resist that appeal, and patted the 
 white head, with a friendly look into the affectionate eyea 
 of the dog, saying to his sister as he did so, — 
 
Ji HAPPY TEA. 76 
 
 *• What a wise old fellow he is ! It seems as if he 
 could almost speak, doesn't it?" 
 
 " He can. Say ' How do you do,' Sanch," commanded 
 Ben, relenting at once, for he saw admiration in Thomy'a 
 face. 
 
 "Wow, wow, wow!" remarked Sancho, in a mild 
 and conversational tone, sitting up and touching one 
 paw to his head, as if he saluted by taking off his 
 hat. 
 
 Thorny laughed in spite of himself, and Miss Celia, 
 seeing that the ice was broken, wheeled him to his place 
 at the foot of the table. Then, seating the little girls 
 on one side, Ben and the dog on the other, took the 
 aead herself and told her guests to begin. 
 
 Bab and Betty were soon chattering away to their 
 pleasant hostess as freely as if they had known her for 
 months ; but the boys were still rather shy, and made 
 Sancho the medium through which they addressed one 
 another. The excellent beast behaved with wonderful 
 propriety, sitting upon his cushion in an attitude of 
 such dignity that it seemed almost a liberty to offer 
 him food. A dish of thick sandwiches had been pro- 
 vided for Ms especial refreshment ; and, as Ben from 
 time to time laid one on his plate, he affected entire 
 unconsciousness of it till the word was given, when it 
 vanished at one gulp, and Sancho again appeared ab- 
 sorbed in deep thought. 
 
 But, having once tasted of this pleasing delicacy, it 
 was very hard to repress his longing for more ; and, in 
 spite of all his efforts, his nose would work, his eye kept 
 a keen watch upon that particular dish, and his tail 
 quivered with excitement as it lay like a train over the 
 
r6 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 Fed cushion. At last, a moment came when temptation 
 proverl too strong for him. Ben was listening to some- 
 thing Miss Celia said ; a tart lay unguarded upon his 
 plate ; Sanch looked at Thorny, who was watching him ; 
 Thorny nodded, Sanch gave one wink, bolted the tait, 
 &nd then gazed pensively up at a sparrow swinging on 
 a twig overhead. 
 
 The sljmess of the rascal tickled the boy so much that 
 he pushed back his hat, clapped his hands, and burst 
 out laughing as he had not done before for weeks. 
 Every one looked round surprised, and Sancho regarded 
 them with a mildly inquiring air, as if he said, *' Why 
 this unseemly mii'th, my friends ? " 
 
 Thorny forgot both sulks and shyness after that, and 
 suddenly began to talk. Ben was flattered by his in- 
 terest in the dear dog, and opened out so delightfully 
 that he soon charmed the other by his lively tales of 
 circus-life. Then Miss Celia felt relieved, and eveiy 
 thing went splendidly, especially the food ; for the plates 
 were emptied several times, the little tea-pot ran dry 
 twice, and the hostess was just wondering if she ought 
 to stop her voracious guests, when something occm-red 
 which spared her that painful task. 
 
 A small boy was suddenly discovered standing in the 
 path behind them, regarding the company with an air 
 of solemn interest. A pretty, well-dressed child of six, 
 with dark hair cut short across the brow, a rosy face, a 
 stout pair of legs, left bare by the socks which had 
 slipped down over the dusty little shoes. One end of a 
 wide sash trailed behind him, a straw hat hung at his 
 back, while his right hand firmly grasped a small tm-tle, 
 and his left a choice collection of sticks. Before Misa 
 
A HAPPY TEA. 77 
 
 Celia could speak, the stranger calmly announced his 
 mission. 
 
 " I have come to see the peacocks." 
 
 "You shall presently — " began Miss Celia, but 
 got no further, for the child added, coming a step 
 nearer, — 
 
 ''Andthe wabbits." 
 
 " Yes, but first won't you — " 
 
 "And the curly dog," continued the small voice, 
 a§ another step brought the resolute young personage 
 nearer. 
 
 " There he is." 
 
 A pause, a long look ; then a new demand with the 
 same solemn tone, the same advance. 
 
 *' I wish to hear the donkey bray." 
 
 "Certainly, if he will." 
 
 " And the peacocks scream." 
 
 " Any thing more, sir?" 
 
 Having reached the table by this time, the insatiable 
 infant surveyed its ravaged surface, then pointed a fat 
 little finger at the last cake, left for manners, and said, 
 commandingly, — 
 
 " I will have some of that." 
 
 " Help yourself; and sit upon the step to eat it, while 
 you tell me whose boy you are," said Miss Ceha, much 
 amused at his proceedings. 
 
 Dehberately putting down his sticks, the child took 
 the cake, and, composing himself upon the step, an- 
 swered with his rosy mouth full, — 
 
 " I am papa's boy. He makes a paper. I help hiia 
 a gi'eat deal." 
 
 " Wliat is his name?" 
 
78 UNDER THE LILAC 8. 
 
 '' Mr. Bailow. We live in Springfield," volunteered 
 the new giiest, unbending a trifle, thanks to the charms 
 of the cake. 
 
 " Have you a manuna, dear?" 
 
 " She takes naps. I go to walk then." 
 
 " Without leave, I suspect. Have jou no brothers 
 or sisters to go with you? " asked Miss Ceha, wondering 
 where the httle runaway belonged. 
 
 "I have two brothers, — Thomas Merton Barlow and 
 Harry Sanford Barlow. I am Alfred Tennyson Barlow. 
 We don't have any girls in our house, only Bridget." 
 
 " Don't you go to school?" 
 
 '' The boys do. I don't learn any Greeks and Latins 
 yet. I dig, and read to mamma, and make poetrys for 
 her." 
 
 ' ' Couldn't you make some for me ? I 'm very fond 
 of poetrj'S," proposed Miss Ceha, seeing that this prattle 
 amused the chUdren. 
 
 "I guess I couldn't make any now; I made some 
 coming along. I wUl say it to you." 
 
 And, crossing his short legs, the inspired babe half 
 said, half sung the following poem : ^ — 
 
 " Sweet are the flowers of life, 
 Swept o'er my happy days at home; 
 Sweet are the flowers of life 
 When I was a Uttle child. 
 
 '* Sweet are the flowers of life 
 That I spent with my father at home ; 
 Sweet are the flowers of life 
 When children played about the house. 
 
 * These lines were actually composed by a six-year old child. 
 
A HAPPY TEA. TJT 
 
 * Sweet are the flowers of life 
 When the lamjs are lighted at night 
 Sweet are the flowers of life 
 When the flowers of summer blooraed. 
 
 •* Sweet are the flowers of Hf e 
 Dead with the snows of winter ; 
 Sweet are the flowers of life 
 When the days of spring come on. 
 
 " That s all of that one. I made another one when 
 I digged after the turtle. I will say that. It is a 
 very pretty one," observed the poet with charming 
 candor; and, taking a long breath, he tuned his little 
 lyre afresh: — 
 
 " Sweet, sweet days are passing 
 O'er my happy home, 
 
 Passing on swift wings through the y alley of life. 
 Cold are the days when winter comes again. 
 When my sweet days were passing at my happy home, 
 Sweet were the days on the riyulet's green brink ; 
 Sweet were the days when I read my father's books ; 
 Sweet were the winter days when bright fires are blazing." 
 
 "Bless the baby! where did he get all that?" ex- 
 claimed Miss Celia, amazed ; while the children giggled 
 as Tennyson, Jr., took a bite at the turtle instead of the 
 half-eaten cake, and then, to prevent further mistakes, 
 crammed the unhappy creature into a diminutive pocket 
 in the most business-like way imaginable. 
 
 " It comes out of my head. I make lots of them," 
 began the imperturbable one, yielding more and more to 
 the social influences of the hour. 
 
 '*Here are the peacocks coming to be fed," inter' 
 
80 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 rupted Bab, as the handsome birds appeared with their 
 splendid plumage ghttering in the sun. 
 
 Young Barlow rose to admii-e ; but his thirst for 
 knowledge was not yet quenched, and he was about to 
 request a song from Juno and Jupiter, when old Jack, 
 pining for society, put his head over the garden wall 
 with a tremendous bray. 
 
 This unexpected sound startled the inquiring stranger 
 half out of his wits ; for a moment the stout legs stag- 
 gered and the solemn countenance lost its composure, 
 as he whispered, with an astonished air, — 
 
 " Is that the way peacocks scream?" 
 
 The children were in fits of laughter, and Miss 
 Ceha could hardly make herself heard as she answered, 
 merrily, — 
 
 "No, dear; that is the donkey asking you to come 
 and see him : will you go ? " 
 
 " I guess I couldn't stop now. Mamma might want 
 me." 
 
 And, without another word, the discomfited poet 
 precipitately retired, leaving his cherished sticks behind 
 him. 
 
 Ben ran after the cMld to see that he came to no 
 harm, and presently returned to report that Alfred had 
 been met by a servant, and gone away chanting a new 
 7erse of his poem, in which peacocks, donkeys, and 
 '' the flowers of life" were sweetly mingled. 
 
 "Now I'll show you my toys, and we'll have a httle 
 play before it gets too late for Thorny to stay with us," 
 said Miss Celia, as Randa canied away the tea-things 
 and brought back a large tray full of picture-books, 
 dissected maps, puzzles, games, and several pretty 
 
A HAPPY TEA. 81 
 
 models of animals, the whole crowned with a large 
 doll dressed as a baby. 
 
 At sight of that, Betty stretched out her arms to 
 receive it with a cry of delight. Bab seized the games, 
 and Ben was lost in admiration of the little Arab chief 
 prancing on the white horse, " all saddled and bridlet 
 and fit for the fight." Thorny poked about to find a 
 certain curious puzzle which he could put together with 
 out a mistake after long study. Even Sancho foun^ 
 something to interest him ; and, standing on his hind 
 legs, thrust his head between the boys to paw at severa 
 red and blue letters on square blocks. 
 
 ''He looks as if he knew them," said Thorny, 
 amused at the dog's eager whine and scratch. 
 
 " He does. Spell your name, Sanch ; " and Ben put all 
 the gay letters down upon the flags with a chirrup which 
 set the dog's tail to wagging as he waited till the alphabet 
 was spread before him. Then, with great deliberation, 
 he pushed the letters about till he had picked out six ; 
 these he arranged with nose and paw till the word 
 *' Sancho" lay before him correctly speit. 
 
 "Isn't that clever? Can he do any more?" cried 
 Thorny, delighted. 
 
 " Lots ; that's the way he gets his livin', and mine 
 too," answered Ben ; and proudly put his poodle through 
 his well-learned lessons with such success that even Miss 
 Ceha was surprised. 
 
 " He has been carefully trained. Do you know how 
 it was done?" she asked, when Sancho lay down to rest 
 and be caressed by the children. 
 
 " No, 'm, father did it when I was a little chap, and 
 never told me how. I used to help teach him to dance. 
 
 4* F 
 
82 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 and that was easy enough, he is so smart. Father said 
 the middle of the night was the best time to give him 
 his lessons ; it was so still then, and nothing disturbed 
 Sanch and made him forget. I can't do half the tricks, 
 but I 'm goin' to learn when father comes back. He 'd 
 rather have me show off Sanch than ride, till I'm 
 older." 
 
 *' I have a charming book about animals, and in it an 
 uteresting account of some trained poodles who could 
 do the most wonderful things. Would you like to hear 
 it while you put your maps and puzzles together?'' 
 asked Miss Celia, glad to keep her brother interested 
 in their four-footed guest at least. 
 
 " Yes, 'm, 3^es, 'm," answered the children; and, 
 fetching the book, she read the pretty account, short- 
 ening and simplifying it here and there to suit hor 
 hearers. 
 
 "'I invited the two dogs to dine and spend the 
 evening ; and they came with their master, who was a 
 Frenchman. He had been a teacher in a deaf and dumb 
 school, and thought he would try the same plan with 
 dogs. He had also been a conjurer, and now was sup- 
 ported by Blanche and her daughter Lyda. These dogs 
 Dehaved at dinner just like other dogs ; but, when I gave 
 Blanche a bit of cheese and asked if she knew the word 
 for it, her master said she could spell it. So a table was 
 arranged with a lamp on it, and round the table were 
 laid the letters of the alphabet painted on cards. Blanche 
 sat in the middle, waiting till her master told her to speU 
 cheese, which she at once did in French, — from age. 
 Then she translated a word for us very cleverly. Some 
 one wrote pferd^ the German for horse, on a slate. 
 
A HAPPY TEA. 8B 
 
 Blanche looked at it and pretended to read it, putting 
 by the slate with her paw when she had done. " Now 
 give us the French for that word," said the man ; and 
 she instantly brought cheval. "Now, as 3'^ou are 
 at an EngUshman's house, give it to us in English ; " 
 and she brought me horse. Then we spelt some 
 ^ords wrong, and she corrected them with wonderful 
 accuracy. But she did not seem to like it, and whined 
 and growled and looked so worried, that she was allowed 
 to go and rest and eat cakes in a corner. 
 
 " ' Then Lyda took her place on the table, and did 
 sums on the slate with a set of figures. Also mental 
 arithmetic, which was very pretty. "Now, Lyda," 
 said her master, "I want to see if you understand 
 division. Suppose you had ten bits of sugar, and you 
 met ten Prussian dogs, how many lumps would you, a 
 French dog, give to each of the Prussians ? " Lyda very 
 decidedly rephed to this with a cipher. " But, suppose 
 you divided your sugar with me, how many lumps would 
 you give me ? " Lyda took up the figure five and politely 
 presented it to her master.' " 
 
 "Wasn't she smart? Sanch can't do that," ex- 
 claimed Ben, forced to own that the French doggie 
 beat his cherished pet. 
 
 "He is not too old to learn. Shall I go on?" 
 asked Miss Ceha, seeing that the boys liked it, though 
 Betty was absorbed with the doll, and Bab deep in a 
 puzzle. 
 
 " Oh, yes ! What else did they do ? " 
 
 " ' They played a game of dominoes together, sitting 
 in chairs opposite each other, and touched the dominoea 
 that were wanted ; but the man placed them and kept 
 
84 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 telling how the game went. Lyda was beaten, and hid 
 under the sofa, evidently feehug very badly about it. 
 Blanche was then surrounded with playing-cards, while 
 her master held another pack and told us to choose a 
 card ; then he asked her what one had been chosen, 
 and she always took up the right one in her teeth. I 
 was asked to go into another room, put a light on the 
 floor with cards round it, and leave the doors nearly 
 shut. Then the man begged some one to whisper in 
 the dog's ear what card she was to bring, and she 
 went at once and fetched it, thus showing that she 
 understood their names. Lyda did many tiicks with 
 the numbers, so curious that no dog could possibly 
 understand them ; yet what the secret sign was I could 
 not discover, but suppose .t must have been in the tones 
 of the master's voice, for he certainly made none with 
 either head or hands.' 
 
 "It took an hour a day for eighteen months to 
 educate a dog enough to appear in public, and (as 
 you say, Ben) the night was the best time to give the 
 lessons. Soon after this visit, the master died ; and 
 these wonderful dogs were sold because theu' mistress 
 did not know how to exhibit them." 
 
 " Wouldn't I have liked to see 'em and find out how 
 they were taught ! Sanch, you '11 have to study up hvely, 
 for I 'm not going to have you beaten by French dogs," 
 said Ben, shaking his finger so sternly that Sancho 
 gi'ovelled at his feet and put both paws over his eyes 
 in the most abject manner. 
 
 " Is there a picture of those smart httle poodles? " 
 asked Ben, eying the book, which Miss Celia left open 
 before her. 
 
A HAPPY TEA. ^5 
 
 *' Not of them, but of other interesting creatures ; 
 also anecdotes about horses, which will please you, 1 
 know," and she turned the pages for him, neither guess- 
 ing how much good Mr. Hamerton's charming " Chapters 
 on Animals " were to do the boy when he needed com- 
 fort for a sorrow wliich was verv near. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A HEAVY TROUBLE- 
 
 »t ^ I ^IIANK you, ma'am, that's a tip-top bock 3 
 -*- 'specially the pictures. But I can't bear to 
 see these poor fellows ; " and Ben brooded over the 
 fine etching of the dead and dying horses on a battle- 
 field, one past all further pain, the other helpless, but 
 lifting his head from his dead master to neigh a farewell 
 to the comrades who go galloping away in a cloud of 
 dust. 
 
 " They ought to stop for him, some of *em," muttered 
 Ben, hastily turning back to the cheerful picture of 
 the three happy horses in the field, standing knee-deep 
 among the grass as they prepare to drink at the wide 
 stream. 
 
 " Ain't that black one a beauty? Seems as if I could 
 see his mane blow in the wind, and hear him whinn}'^ to 
 that small feller trotting down to see if he can't get 
 over and be sociable. How I 'd like to take a rousin' 
 run round that meadow on the whole lot of 'em ! " and 
 Ben swayed about in his chair as if he was already 
 doing it in imagination. 
 
 "You may take a turn round my field on Lita any 
 day. She would like it, and Thorny's saddle will be 
 
A HEAVY TROUBLE. 87 
 
 here next week," said Miss Ceiia, pleased to see that 
 the boy appreciated the fine pictiures, and felt such 
 hearty sympathy with the noble animals whom she 
 dearly loved herself. 
 
 ''Needn't wait for that. I'd rather ride bare-back. 
 Oh, I say, is this the book you told about, where the 
 horses talked?" asked Ben, suddenly recollecting the 
 speech he had puzzled over ever since he heard it. 
 
 "No; I brought the book, but in the hurry of my 
 tea-party forgot to unpack it. I '11 hunt it up to-night. 
 Remind me. Thorny." 
 
 " There, now, I 've forgotten something, too ! Squire 
 sent you a letter ; and I'm having such a jolly time, I 
 never thought of it." 
 
 Bon rummaged out the note with remorseful haste, 
 protesting that he was in no hurry for Mr. Gulliver, and 
 very glad to save him for another day. 
 
 Leaving the young folks busy with their games, Miss 
 Celia sat in the porch to read her letters, for there were 
 two ; and as she read her face grew so sober, then so 
 sad, that if any one had been looking he would have 
 wondered what bad news had chased away the sunshine 
 so suddenly. No one did look ; no one saw how pitifully 
 her eyes rested on Ben's happy face when the letters 
 were put away, and no one minded the new gentleness 
 in her manner as she came back to the table. But Bon 
 thought there never was so sweet a lady as the one who 
 leaned over him to show him how the dissected map 
 went together, and never smiled at his mistakes. 
 
 So kind, so very kind was she to them all, that when, 
 after an hour of merry play, she took her brother in 
 to bed, the three who remained "ell to praising her 
 
88 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 enlliusiastically as they put things to rights before tak- 
 ing leave. 
 
 "She's like the good fairies in the books, and has 
 all sorts of nice, pretty things in her house," said 
 Betty, enjopng a last hug of the fascinating doll whose 
 lids would shut so that it was a pleasure to sing, " Bye, 
 sweet baby, bye," with no staring eyes to spoil the 
 illusion. 
 
 " What heaps she knows ! More than Teacher, I do 
 beheve ; and she doesn't mind how many questions we 
 ask. I like folks that will tell me things," added Bab, 
 whose inquisitive mind was always hungiy. 
 
 " I like that boy first-rate, and I guess he likes me, 
 though I didn't know where Nantucket ought to go. 
 He wants me to teach him to ride when he's on his 
 pins again, and Miss Ceha says I may. She knows how 
 to make folks feel good, don't she ? " and Ben gratefully 
 surveyed the Arab chief, now his own, though the best 
 of all the collection. 
 
 "Won't we have splendid times? She says we 
 may come over every night and play with her and 
 Thorny." 
 
 " And she's going to have the seats in the porch lift 
 up, so we can put our things in there all dry, and have 
 'em handy." 
 
 " And I'm going to be her boy, and stay here all the 
 time. I guess the letter I brought was a recommend 
 from the Squire." 
 
 " Yes, Ben ; and if I had not already made up my 
 mind to keep you before, I certainly would now, my 
 boy." 
 
 Something in Miss Ceha's voice, as she said the last 
 
A HEAVY TROUBLE. 89 
 
 two words with her hand on Ben's shoulder, made hun 
 look up quickly and turn red with pleasure, wondering 
 what the Squii-e had wi'itten about hiin. 
 
 "Mother must have some of the * party;* so you 
 shall take her these, Bab, and Betty maj^ cany Baby 
 home for the night. She is so nicely asleep, it is a pity 
 to wake her. Good-by till to-morrow, little neighbors," 
 continued Miss Celia, and dismissed the girls with a 
 kiss. 
 
 " Isn't Ben coming, too ? " asked Bab, as Betty trotted 
 off in a silent rapture with the big darling bobbing over 
 her shoulder. 
 
 " Not yet ; I 've several things to settle with my new 
 man. Tell mother he will come by-and-by." 
 
 Off rushed Bab with the plateful of goodies ; and, 
 drawing Ben down beside her on the wide step. Miss 
 Celia took out the letters, with a shadow creeping over 
 her face as softly as the twilight was stealing over th6 
 world, while the dew fell, and ever^^ thing gi-ew still and 
 dim. 
 
 "Ben, dear, I've something to tell you," she began, 
 slowly ; and the boy waited with a happy face, for no 
 one had called him so since 'Melia died. 
 
 "The Squire has heard about your father, and this 
 Is tlie letter Mr. Smithers sends." 
 
 " Hooray ! where is he, please?" cried Ben, wishing 
 she would hurry up ; for Miss Celia did not even offer 
 him the letter, but sat looking down at Sancho on the 
 lower step, as if she wanted him to come and help her. 
 
 " He went after the mustangs, and sent some home, 
 but could not come himself." 
 
 * Went further on, I s'pose. Yes, he said he mfght 
 
yy UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 go as far as California, and if he did he *d send for me 
 I 'd like to go there ; it 's a real splendid place, thov 
 say." 
 
 " He has gone fuilher awa}^ than that, to a loveliei 
 country than California, I hope." And Miss Celia's 
 eyes tnrned to the deep sky, where early stars were 
 shining. 
 
 ' ' Didn't he send for me ? Where 's he gone ? AYTien 's 
 he coming back? " asked Ben, quickly ; for there was a 
 quiver in her voice, the meaning of w'lich he felt before 
 he understood. 
 
 Miss Ceha put her arms about him, and answered 
 very tenderly, — 
 
 '"Ben, dear, if I were to tell you that he was nevei 
 coming back, could 3'ou bear it ? " 
 
 *' I guess I could, — but 3'ou don't mean it? Oh, 
 ma'am, he isn't dead?" cried Ben, with a cry that made 
 her heart ache, and Sancho leap up with a bark. 
 
 ''My poor little boy, I wish I could say no." 
 
 There was no need of any more words, no need 
 of tears or kind arms around him. He knew he was 
 an orphan now, and turned instinctiveh^ to the old 
 fiiend who loved him best. Throwing himself down 
 beside his dog, Ben clung about the curly neck, sobbing 
 bitterly, — 
 
 "Oh, Sanch, he's never coming back again; never, 
 never any more ! " 
 
 Poor Sancho could onl}' whine and lick awa^^the tears 
 
 that wet the half-hidden face, questioning the new frii nd 
 
 meantime with eyes so full of dumb love and sympathy 
 
 and sorrow that they seemed almost human. "Wiping 
 
 wa}' her own tears, Miss Celia stooped to pat the wliite 
 
A HEAVY TROUBLE. 91 
 
 head, and to stroke the black one Ij^ng so near it that 
 the dog's breast was the boy's pillow. Presentl}- the 
 sobbing ceased, and Ben whispered, without looking 
 up,— 
 
 " TeU me all about it ; I'U be good." 
 
 Then, as kindly as she could, Miss Celia read the 
 brief letter which told the hard news bluntly ; for Mr. 
 Smithers was obliged to confess that he had known 
 the truth months before, and never told the boy, lest 
 he should be unfitted for the work they gave him. Of 
 Ben Brown the elder's death there was little to tell, 
 except that he was killed in some wild place at the 
 West, and a stranger wrote the fact to the only person 
 whose name was found in Ben's pocket-book. Mr. 
 Smithers offered to take the boy back and *' do well by 
 him," averring that the father wished his son to remain 
 where he left him, and follow the profession to which 
 he was trained. 
 
 ^' Will you go, Ben?" asked Miss Celia, hoping to 
 distract his mind from his grief by speaking of other 
 things. 
 
 " No, no ; I 'd rather tramp and starve. He 's awful 
 hard to me and Sanch ; and he '11 be worse, now father's 
 gone. Don't send me back ! Let me stay here ; folka 
 are good to me ; there 's nowhere else to go." And the 
 head Ben had lifted up with a desperate sort of look, 
 went down again on Sancho's breast as if there were no 
 other refuge left. 
 
 " You shall stay here, and no one shall take you away 
 against your will. I called j^ou ' my boy ' in play, now 
 you shall be my boy in earnest; this shall be your 
 home, and Thorny your brother. We are orphans^ 
 
92 UJSDER THE LILACS. 
 
 too ; and we will stand by one another till a stronger 
 friend comes to help us," cried Miss Celia, with such a 
 mixture of resolution and tenderness in her voice, that 
 Ben felt comforted at once, and thanked her by laying 
 his cheek against the pretty slipper that rested on the 
 step beside him, as if he had no words in which to swear 
 loyalty to the gentle mistress whom he meant henceforth 
 to serve with grateful fideht3\ 
 
 Sancho felt that he must follow suit ; and gravely 
 put his paw upon her knee, with a low whine, as if he 
 eaid, " Count me in, and let me help to pay my master's 
 debt if I can." 
 
 Miss Ceha shook the offered paw cordially, and the 
 good creature crouched at her feet like a small Hon, 
 bound to guard her and her house for evermore. 
 
 "Don't lie on that cold stone, Ben; come here and 
 let me try to comfort you," she said, stooping to wipe 
 away the gi-eat drops that kept rolling down the brown 
 cheek half hidden in her dress. 
 
 But Ben put his arm over his face, and sobbed out 
 with a fresh burst of grief, — 
 
 "You ^an't, — you didn't know him! Oh, daddy! 
 daddy ! if I 'd only seen you jest once more ! " 
 
 No one could grant that wish ; but Miss Ceha did 
 comfort him, for j^resently the sound of music floated 
 out from the parlor, — music so soft, so sweet, that 
 involuntarily the boy stopped his crying to listen ; then 
 quieter tears dropped slowly, seeming to soothe his 
 pain as they fell, while the sense of loneliness passed 
 away, and it grew possible to wait till it was time to 
 p:o to father in that far-off country lovelier than golden 
 California. 
 
A HEAVY TROUBLE. 93 
 
 How long she played Miss Celia never minded ; but, 
 when she stole out to see if Ben had gone, she found 
 that other friends, even kinder than herself, had taken 
 the boy into their gentle keeping. The -wind had sung 
 a lullab}^ among the rustling Ulacs, the moon's mild face 
 looked through the leafy arch to kiss the heavy eyelids, 
 and faithful Sancho still kept guard beside his Httle 
 master, who, with his head pillowed on his arm, Ky fast 
 asleep, dreaming, happily, that *' Daddy had come hoia<^ 
 again." 
 
CHAPTER Xi. 
 
 SUNDAY. 
 
 MRS. MOSS woke Ben with a Mss next morning, 
 for her heart yearned over the fatherless lad as 
 if he had been her own, and she had no other way of 
 showing her sjinpathy. Ben had forgotten his troubles 
 in sleep ; but the memory of them retui'ned as soon as 
 he opened his eyes, heavy with the tears they had shed. 
 He did not cry any more, but felt strange and lonely 
 till he called Sancho and told him all about it, for he 
 was shy even with kind Mrs. Moss, and glad when she 
 went away. 
 
 Sancho seemed to understand that his master was in 
 trouble, and hstened to the sad little stor}" with gurgles 
 of interest, whines of condolence, and intelligent barks 
 whenever the word "daddy" was uttered. He was 
 only a brute, but his dumb affection comforted the boy 
 more than any words ; for Sanch had known and loved 
 " father" almost as long and well as his son, and that 
 seemed to draw them closely together, now they were 
 left alone. 
 
 "We must put on mourning, old feller. It's the 
 proper thing, and there's nobody else to do it now," 
 said Ben, as he dressed, remembering how all the 
 comi>any wore bits of craue somewhere about them at 
 'Melia's funeral. 
 
SUN DA Y. 96 
 
 It was a real sacrifice of boyish vanity to take the 
 blue ribbon with its silver anchors off the new hat, and 
 replace it with the dingy black band from the old one ; 
 but Ben was quite sincere in doing this, though doubt- 
 less his theatrical life made him think of the effect more 
 than other lads would have done. He could find nothing 
 in his limited wardrobe with which to decorate Sanch 
 except a black cambric pocket. It was already half 
 torn out of his trousers with the weight of nails, peb- 
 bles, and other light trifles ; so he gave it a final wrench 
 and tied it into the dog's collar, saying to himself, as he 
 put away his treasures, with a sigh, — 
 
 " One pocket is enough ; I sha'n't want any thing but 
 a hiin'k'chi'f to-day." 
 
 Fortunately, that article of dress was clean, for he 
 had but one ; and, with this somewhat ostentatiously 
 drooping from the soUtary pocket, the serious hat upon 
 his head, the new shoes creaking mournfully, and Sancb 
 gravely following, much impressed with his black bow, 
 the chief mourner descended, feeling that he had done 
 his best to show respect to the dead. 
 
 Mrs. Moss's eyes filled as she saw the rusty band, 
 and guessed why it was there ; but she found it dififlcult 
 to repress a smile when she beheld the cambric symbol 
 of woe on the dog's neck. Not a word was said to 
 iisturb the boy's comfort in these poor attempts, how- 
 ever , and he went out to do his chores, conscious that 
 he was an object of interest to his friends, especially 
 so to Bab and Betty, who, having been told of Ben'a 
 loss, now regarded him with a sort of pitying awe very 
 grateful to his feehngs. 
 
 '' I want you to drive me to chiu'ch by-and-by. It 
 
96 UNDER THE LILACS 
 
 is going to be pretty warm, and Thorny is hardly strong 
 enough to ventm-e yet," said Miss Celia, when Ben ran 
 over after breakfast to see if she had any thing for him 
 to do ; foi he considered her his mistress now, though 
 he wa^ not to take possession of his new quarters til] 
 the morrow, 
 
 '-' Yes, 'm, I'd like to, if I look well enough," an- 
 swered Ben, pleased to be asked, but impressed with 
 the idea that people had to be very fine on such oc- 
 casions. 
 
 "You will do very well when I have given you a 
 jouch. God doesn't mind our clothes, Ben, and the 
 poor are as welcome as the rich to him. You have 
 not been much, have you?" asked Miss Celia, anxious 
 to help the boy, and not quite sure how to begin. 
 
 " No, 'm ; our folks didn't hardly e^pr go, and father 
 was so tired he used to rest Sundays, or go off in the 
 woods with me." 
 
 A httle quaver came into Ben's voice as he spoke, 
 and a sudden motion made his hat-brim hide his eyes, 
 for the thought of the happy tnnes that would nevei 
 come any more was almost too much for him. 
 
 " That was a pleasant way to rest. I often do so, 
 and we will go to the grove this afternoon and try it. 
 But I love to go to church in the morning ; it seems to 
 start me right for the week ; and if one has a soitow 
 that is the place where one can always find comfort 
 Will you come and try it, Ben, dear?" 
 
 "I'd do any thing to please 3'ou," muttered Ben, 
 without looking up ; for, though he felt her kindness 
 to the bottom of his heart, he did wish that no 
 one would talk about father for a little while ; it was 
 
SUNDAY. 97 
 
 so hard to keep from crying, and he hated to be a 
 baby. 
 
 Miss Celia seemed to understand, for the next thing 
 she said, in a very cheerful tone, was, " See Tvhat a 
 pretty sight that is. When I was a httle girl I used to 
 think spiders spun cloth for the fairies, and spread it on 
 the grass to bleach." 
 
 Ben stopped digging a hole in the ground with Ma 
 toe, and looked up, to see a lovely cobweb like a wheel, 
 circle within circle, spun across a corner of the arch 
 over the gate. Tiny drops glittered on every thread as 
 the light shone through the gossamer cmi;ain, and a 
 soft breath of air made it tremble as if about to blow 
 it away. 
 
 "It's- mighty pretty, but it will fly off, just as the 
 others did. I never saw such a chap as that spider is. 
 He keeps on spinning a new one every day, for they 
 always get broke, and he don't seem to be discouraged 
 a mite," said Ben, glad to change the subject, as she 
 knew he would be. 
 
 "That is the way he gets his living. He spins his 
 web and waits for his daily bread, — or fly, rather ; and 
 it always comes, I fancy. By-and-by you will see that 
 pretty trap full of insects, and Mr. Spider will lay up 
 his provisions for the day. After that he doesn't care 
 how soon his fine web blows away." 
 
 " I know him ; he 's a handsome feller, all black and 
 yellow, and lives up in that corner where the shiny sort 
 of hole is. He dives down the minute I touch the gate, 
 but comes up after I ve kept still a minute. I like to 
 watch him. But he must hate me, for I took away a 
 nice green fly and some httle millers one day." 
 
 6 Q 
 
9S UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 " Did jou ever hear the story of Bruce and his spider ? 
 Most children know and like that," said Miss Ceha, 
 peeing that he seemed interested. 
 
 "No, 'm; I don't know ever so many things most 
 children do," answered Ben, soberly ; for, since he had 
 been among his new friends, he had often felt his own 
 deficiencies. 
 
 " Ah, but you also know many things which they do 
 not. Half the boys in town would give a great deal to 
 be able to ride and run and leap as j^ou do ; and even 
 the oldest are not as capable of taking care of them- 
 selves as you are. Your active life has done much in 
 some ways to make a man of you ; but in other ways it 
 was bad, as I think you begin to see. Now, suppose 
 you try to forget the haimful part, and remember only 
 the good, while learning to be more like our boys, who 
 go to school and church, and fit themselves to become 
 industrious, honest men." 
 
 Ben had been looking straight up in Miss Celia's face 
 as she spoke, feeling that every word was true, though 
 he could not have exj^ressed it if he had tried ; and, 
 when she paused, with her bright eyes inquiringly fixed 
 on his, he answered heartily, — 
 
 "I'd like to stay here and be respectable ; for, since 
 I came, I've found out that folks don't think much of 
 circus riders, though they like to go and see 'em. 1 
 didn't use to care about school and such things, but 
 I do now ; and I guess he 'd like it better than to have 
 me knocMn' round that way without him to look aft^r 
 me." 
 
 " I know he would ; so we will try, Benny. I dare 
 say it will seem dull and hard at fii'st, after the gay sort 
 
SUNDAY. 99 
 
 of life 3^011 have led, and you will miss the excitement. 
 But it was not good for 3'ou, and we will do our best to 
 find something safer. Don't be discouraged ; and, when 
 things trouble 3'ou, come to me as Thorny does, and I 'II 
 try to straighten them out for 3'ou. I've got two boys 
 now, and I want to do my duty by both." 
 
 Before Ben had time for more than a grateful look, 
 a tumbled head appeared at an upper window, and a 
 sleep}^ voice drawled out, — 
 
 " Ceha ! I can't find a bit of a shoe-string, and I wish 
 you 'd come and do my neck-tie." 
 
 " Lazy boj', come down here, and bring one of your 
 black ties with you. Shoe-strings are in the little brown 
 bag on my bureau," called back Miss Celia ; adding, 
 with a laugh, as the tumbled head disappeared mumbling 
 something about " bothering old bags,'*' — 
 
 " Thorny has been half spoiled since he was ill. You 
 mustn't mind his fidgets and dawdling ways. lie '11 get 
 over them soon, and then T know you two will be good 
 friends." 
 
 Ben had his doubts about that, but resolved to do his 
 best for her sake ; so, when Master Tliorny presently 
 appeared, with a careless "How are you, Ben?" that 
 young . person answered respectfully, — 
 
 "Very well, thank you," though his nod was as 
 condescending as his new master's ; because he felt 
 that a boy who could ride bareback and turn a 
 double somersault in the air ought not to " knuckle 
 under" to a fellow who had not the strength of a 
 pussy-cat. 
 
 " Sailor's knot, please , keeps better so," said Thorny, 
 holding up his chin to have a blue-silk scarf tied to suit 
 
100 UNDER THE LILACS 
 
 aim, for he was already beginning to be something of 
 a dandy. 
 
 *' You ought to wear red till you get more color, 
 dear ; " and his sister rubbed her blooming cheek 
 against his pale one, as if to lend him some of her 
 own roses. 
 
 " Men don't care how they look," said Thorny, squirm 
 Ing out of her hold, for he hated to be " cuddled " before 
 people. 
 
 "Oh, don't they? Here's a vain boy who brushes 
 his hair a dozen times a day, and quiddles over his collar 
 till he is so tired he can hardly stand," laughed Miss 
 Ceha, with a little tweak of his ear, 
 
 " I should like to know what this is for?" demanded 
 Thorny, in a dignified tone, presenting a black tie. 
 
 " P'or my other boy. He is going to church with me," 
 and Miss Celia tied a second knot for this young gentle 
 man, with a smile that seemed to brighten up even the 
 rusty hat-band. 
 
 " Well, I like that — " began Thorny, in a tone that 
 contradicted his words. 
 
 A look from his sister reminded him of what she had 
 told him half an hour ago, and he stopped short, under- 
 standing now why she was "extra good to the little 
 tramp." 
 
 " So do I, for you are of no use as a driver yet, and 
 I don't like to fasten Lita when I have my best gloves 
 on," said JMiss Ceha, in a tone that rather nettled Master 
 Thorny. 
 
 " Is Ben going to black my boots before he goes?** 
 with a glance at the new shoes which caused them to 
 •jreak uneasily. 
 
SUNDA F. 101 
 
 "No ; he ia going to black miTie, if he will be so kind. 
 You won't need boots for a week yet, so we won't waste 
 any time oyer them. You will find every thing in the 
 shed, Ben ; and at ten you may go for Lita." 
 
 With that, Miss Celia walked her brother off to the 
 dining-room, and Ben retired to vent his ire in such 
 energetic demonstrations with the blacking-brush that 
 She little boots shone splendidly. 
 
 He thought he had never seen any thing as pretty as 
 his mistress when, an hour later, she came out of the 
 house in her white shawl and bonnet, holding a book 
 and a late lily-of-the-valley in the pearl-colored gloves, 
 which he hardly dared to touch as he helped her into 
 the carriage. He had seen a good many fine ladies in 
 his life ; and those he had known had been very gay in 
 the colors of their hats and gowns, very fond of cheap 
 jewelry, and much given to feathers, lace, and furbelows ; 
 so it rather puzzled him to discover why Miss Celia 
 looked so sweet and elegant in such a simple suit. He did 
 not then know that the charm was in the woman, not the 
 clothes ; or that merely living near such a person would 
 do more to give him gentle manners, good principles, 
 and pure thoughts, than almost any other training he 
 could have had. But he was conscious that it was 
 pleasant to be there, neatly dressed, ir good company, 
 and going to church like a respectable boy. Somehow, 
 the lonely feehng got better as he rolled along between 
 green fields, with the June sunshine brightening every 
 thing, a restful quiet in the air, and a friend beside him 
 who sat silently looking out at the lovely world with 
 what he afterward learned to call her " Sunday face," 
 »— a soft, happ3" look, as if all the work and weariness 
 
102 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 of the past week were forgotten, and she was read^ 
 to begin afresh when this blessed day was over. 
 
 ''Well, child, what is it?" she asked, catching his 
 eye as he stole a sh}^ glance at her, one of many which 
 she had not seen. 
 
 " I was only thinking 3'ou looked as if — " 
 
 *' As if what? Don't be afraid," she said, for Ben 
 paused and fumbled at the reins, feeling half ashamed 
 to tell his fancy. 
 
 — "You were raying prayers," he added, wishing 
 she had not caught him. 
 
 " So I was. Don't you, when you are happy?" 
 
 " No, 'm. I 'm glad, but I don't say any thing.* 
 
 "Words are not needed; but they help, sometimes, 
 if they are sincere and sweet. Did you never learn 
 any prayers, Ben?" 
 
 "Only 'Now I lay me.' Grandma taught me that 
 when I was a Httle mite of a boy." 
 
 " I will teach you another, the best that was ever 
 made, because it says all we need ask." 
 
 " Our folks wasn't very pious ; they didn't have time, 
 I s'pose." 
 
 "I wonder if you know just what it means to be 
 pious ? " 
 
 " Goin' to church, and readin' the Bible, and sayin' 
 prayers and hjTnns, ain't it?" 
 
 " Those things are a part of it ; but being kind and 
 cheerful, doing one's duty, helping others, and losing 
 God, is the best way to show that we are pious in the 
 true sense of the word." 
 
 " Then you are ! " and Ben looked as if her acts had 
 been a better definition than her words 
 
SUNDAY lOa 
 
 ** I try to be, but I very often fail ; so every Sunday 
 [ make new resolutions, and work hard to keep them 
 through the week. That is a great help, as you will 
 find when you begin to try it." 
 
 "Do you think if I said in meeting ' I won't ever 
 swear anymore,' that I wouldn't do it again?" asked 
 Ben, soberly ; for that was his besetting sin just 
 now. 
 
 "I'm afraid we can't get rid of our faults quite so 
 easily ; I wish we could : but I do believe that if you 
 keep saying that, and trying to stop, jou. will cure the 
 habit sooner than you think." 
 
 ' ' I never did swear very bad, and I didn't mind much 
 till I came here ; but Bab and Betty looked so scared 
 when I said ' damn,' and Mrs. Moss scolded me so, I 
 tried to leave off. It's dreadful hard, though, when 
 I get mad. ' Hang it ! ' don't seem half so good if I 
 want to let off steam." 
 
 "Thorny used to 'confound!' every thing, so I 
 proposed that he should whistle instead ; and now he 
 sometimes pipes up so suddenly and shrilly that it makes 
 me jump. How would that do, instead of swearing?" 
 proposed Miss Ceha, not the least surprised at the habit 
 of profanity, which the boy could hardly help learning 
 among his former associates. 
 
 Ben laughed, and promised to try it, feeling a mis- 
 chievous satisfaction at the prospect of out-whistling 
 Master Thorny, as he knew he should ; for the objec- 
 tionable words rose to his lips a dozen times a day. 
 
 The bell was ringing as thej'- drove into town ; and, 
 by the time Lita was comfortal^ly settled in her shed, 
 people were coming up from all quarters to clustei 
 
104 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 around the steps of the old meeting-house like Ijees 
 about a hive. Accustomed to a tent, where people 
 kept their hats on, Ben forgot all about his, and was 
 going down the aisle covered, when a gentle hand took 
 it off, and Miss Celia whispered, as she gave it to 
 him, — 
 
 " This is a holy place ; remember that, and uncover 
 at the door." 
 
 Much abashed, Ben followed to the pew, where the 
 Squii'e and his wife soon joined them. 
 
 " Glad to see him here," said the old gentleman with 
 an approving nod, as he recognized the boy and re- 
 membered his loss. 
 
 "Hope he won't nestle round in meeting-time," 
 whispered Mrs. Allen, composing hers'elf in the corner 
 with much rustling of black silk. 
 
 "I'll take care that he doesn't disturb you," answered 
 Miss Ceha, pushing a stool under the short legs, and 
 drawing a palm-leaf fan within reach. 
 
 Ben gave an inward sigh at the prospect before him ; 
 for an hour's captivity to an active lad is hard to bear, 
 and he really did want to behave well. So he folded 
 his arms and sat like a statue, with nothing mo\ing but 
 his e^'es. They rolled to and fro, up and down, from 
 the high red pulpit to the worn hjTnn-books in the rack, 
 recognizing two little faces under blue-ribboned hats in 
 a distant pew, and finding it impossible to restrain a 
 momentary twinkle in return for the solemn wink Billy 
 Barton bestowed upon him across the aisle. Ten minutes 
 of this decorous demeanor made it absolutely necessary 
 for him to stir ; so he unfolded his arms and crossed 
 his legs as cautiously as a mouse moves in the pres- 
 
SUNDAY. 106 
 
 ence of a cat ; for Mrs. Allen's eye was on him, 
 and lie knew by experience that it was a very sharp 
 one. 
 
 The music which presently began was a great rehef 
 to him, for under cover of it he could wag his foot and 
 no one heard the creak thereof; and when they stood 
 up to sing, he was so sure that all the boys were looking 
 at hun, he was glad to sit down again. The good old 
 minister read the sixteenth chapter of Samuel, and then 
 proceeded to preach a long and somewhat dull sermon 
 Ben listened with all his ears, for he was interested in 
 the young shepherd, " ruddy and of a beautiful coun- 
 tenance," who was chosen to be Saul's armor-bearer. 
 He wanted to hear more about him, and how he got on, 
 and whether the evil spuits troubled Saul again after 
 Da-sdd had harped them out. But nothing more came , 
 and the old gentleman droned on about other things 
 till poor Ben felt that he must either go to sleep like 
 the Squire, or tip the stoel over by accident, since 
 "nestling" was forbidden, and rehef of some sort he 
 must have. 
 
 Mrs. Allen gave him a peppermint, and he dutifully 
 ate it, though it was so hot it made his eyes water. 
 Then she fanned him, to his great annoyance, for it 
 blew his hah- about ; and the pride of his life was to 
 have his head as smooth and shiny as black satin. An 
 irrepressible sigh of weariness attracted Miss Ceha's 
 attention at last ; for, though she seemed to be listening 
 devoutly, her thoughts had flown over the sea, with 
 tender prayers for one whom she loved even more than 
 David did his Jonathan. She guessed the trouble in a 
 minute, and had provided for it, knowing by experience 
 5- 
 
106 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 that few small boys can keep quiet through scrmou 
 time. Finding a certain place in the little book she 
 had brought, she put it into his hands, with the whis- 
 per, "Read if 3'ou are tired.' 
 
 Ben clutched the book and gladty obej^ed, though 
 the title, " Scripture Narratives," did not look very 
 inviting. Then his e^^e fell on the picture of a slender 
 youth cutting a large man's iiead off, while many people 
 Rtood looking on. 
 
 "Jack, the giant-killer," thought Ben, and turned 
 the page to see the words "David and Goliath," 
 which was enough to set him to reading the story with 
 gi'eat interest ; for here was the shepherd boy turned 
 into a hero. No more fidgets now ; the sermon was no 
 longer heard, the fan flapped unfelt, and Billy Barton's 
 spirited sketches in the hymn-book were vainl}'' held up 
 for admiration. Ben was quite absorbed in the stirring 
 history of King David, told in a way that fitted it for 
 children's reading, and illustrated with fine pictures 
 which charmed the boy's eye. 
 
 Sermon and story ended at the same time ; and, while 
 he listened to the pra3'er, Ben felt as if he understood 
 now what ]\Iiss Ceha meant by saying that words helped 
 when they were well chosen and sincere. Several pe- 
 titions seemed as if especially intended for him ; and 
 he repeated them to himself that he might remember 
 them, they sounded so sweet and comfortable, heard for 
 the first time just when he most needed comfort. Miss 
 Ceha saw a new expression in the boy's face as she 
 glanced down at him, and heard a little humming at hei 
 side when all stood up to sing the cheerful h}Tnn with 
 which they were dismissed. 
 
SUNDAY, 107 
 
 *'How do you like church?" asked the j-oung lady, 
 as they drove away. 
 
 " First-rate ! " answered Ben, heartily. 
 
 •' Especially the sermon? " 
 
 Ben laughed, and said, with an affectionate glance at 
 the little book in her lap, — 
 
 " I couldn't understand it ; but tnat story was just 
 elegant. There 's more ; and I 'd admire to read 'em, 
 if I could." 
 
 "I'm glad you like thera ; and we will keep the rest 
 for another sermon-time. Thorny used to do so, and 
 alwaj^s called this his ' pew book.' I don't expect you 
 to understand much that j^ou hear j^et awhile ; but it is 
 good to be thei-e, and after reading these stories you 
 will be more interested when 3'ou hear the names of the 
 people mentioned here." 
 
 "Yes,'m. Wasn't David a fine feller? I liked all 
 about the kid and the corn and the ten cheeses, and 
 killin' the lion and bear, and shngin' old Goliath dead 
 first shot. I want to know about Joseph next time, for 
 I saw a gang of robbers puttin' him in a hole, and it 
 looked real interesting." 
 
 Miss Celia could not help smihng at Ben's way of 
 telhng things ; but she was pleased to see that he wag 
 attracted by the music and the stories, and resolved to 
 make church-going so pleasant that he would leara 
 to love it for its own sake. 
 
 " Now, you have tried my way this morning, and we 
 will try yours this afternoon. Come over about four 
 and help me roll Thorny down to the grove. I am 
 going to put one of the hammocks there, because 
 the smell of the pines is good for him, and you can 
 
108 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 talk or read or amuse yourselves in any quiet wa} 
 you like." 
 
 " Can I take Sanch along? He doesn't like to he left, 
 and felt real bad because I shut him up, for fear he'd 
 follow and come walMn' into meetin' to find me." 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; let the clever Bow-wow have a good 
 time, and enjoy Sunday as mv.h as I want my boys 
 to." 
 
 Quite content with this arrangement, Ben went home 
 to dinner, which he made very lively by recounting Billy 
 Barton's ingenious devices to beguile the tedium of 
 sermon- time. He said nothing of his conversation 
 with Miss Celia, because he had not quite made up his 
 mind whether he liked it or not ; it was so new and 
 serious, he felt as if he had better lay it by, to think 
 over a good deal before he could understand all about 
 it. But he had time to get dismal again, and long for 
 four o'clock ; because he had nothing to do except 
 whittle. Mrs. Moss went to take a nap ; Bab and 
 Betty sat demurely on their bench reading Sunday 
 books ; no boys were allowed to come and play ; even 
 the hens retired under the currant-bushes, and the cock 
 stood among them, clucking drowsily, as if reading 
 them a sermon. 
 
 " Dreadful slow day I " thought Ben ; and, retiring to 
 !iie recesses of his own room, he read over the two 
 letters which seemed already old to him. Now that the 
 first shock was over, he could not make it true that his 
 father was dead, and he gave up trying ; for he was an 
 honest boy, and felt that it was foolish to pretend to be 
 more unhappy than he reall}^ was. So he put away his 
 letters, took the black pocket off Sanch's neck, and 
 
SUNDAl, 109 
 
 allowed himself to whistle softly as he packed up his 
 possessions, ready to move next day, with few regrets 
 and many bright anticipations for the future. 
 
 '* Thorny, I want you to be good to Ben, and amuse 
 him in some quiet way this afternoon. I must stay 
 and see the Morris's, who are coming over; but you 
 can go to the grove and have a pleasant time," said 
 Miss Celia to her brother. 
 
 " Not much fun in talking to that horsey fellow. I *m 
 sorry for him, but / can't do any thing to amuse him,'* 
 objected Thorny, pulling himself up from the sofa with 
 a great yawn. 
 
 " You can be very agreeable when you like ; and Ben 
 has had enough of me for this time. To morrow he 
 will have his work, and do very well ; but we must try 
 to help him through to-day, because he doesn't know 
 what to do with himself. Besides, it is just the time 
 to make a good impression on him, while grief for his 
 father softens him, and gives us a chance. I like him, 
 and I 'm sure he wants to do well ; so it is our duty to 
 help him, as there seems to be no one else." 
 
 " Here goes, then ! Where is he? " and Thorny stood 
 up, won by his sister's sweet earnestness, but very 
 doubtful of his own success with the "horsey fellow." 
 
 "Waiting with the chair. Randa has gone on with 
 the hammock. Be a dear boy, and I 'U do as muoh for 
 you some day." 
 
 " Don't see how you can be a dear boy. You 're the 
 best sister that ever was ; so I 'U love all the scallywags 
 you ask me to." 
 
 With a laugh and a kiss, Thorny shambled off to 
 ascend his chariot, good-humoredly saluting his pusher^ 
 
110 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 whom he found sitting on the high rail behind, with his 
 feet on Sanch. 
 
 " Drive on, Benjamin. I don't know the way, so I 
 can't direct. Don't spill me out, — that 's aU I 've got 
 to say." 
 
 '' AU right, sir," — and away Ben trundled down the 
 long walk that led through the orchard to a little grove 
 of seven pines. 
 
 A pleasant spot; for a soft rustle filled the air, a 
 brown carpet of pine needles, with fallen cones for 
 a pattern, lay under foot ; and over the tops of the tall 
 brakes that fringed the knoU one had glimpses of hill 
 and valley, farm-houses and winding river, like a silver 
 nbbon through the low, green meadows. 
 
 *' A regular summer house ! " said Thorny, survejing 
 it with approval. " What's the matter, Eanda? Won't 
 it go ? " he asked, as the stout maid dropped her arms 
 with a puff, after vainly trpng to throw the hammock 
 rope over a branch. 
 
 *' That end went up beautiful, but this one won't ; the 
 branches is so high, I can't reach 'em ; and I 'm no 
 hand at flinging ropes round." 
 
 "I'll fix it;" and Ben went up the pine like a 
 squirrel, tied a stout knot, and swung himself down 
 again before Thorny could get out of the chair. 
 
 " My patience, what a spry boy ! " exclaimed Randa^ 
 admiringly. 
 
 "That's nothing; you ought to see me shin up a 
 smooth tent-pole," said Ben, rubbing the pitch off his 
 hands, with a boastful wag of the head. 
 
 '' You can go, Randa. Just hand me my cushion 
 and books, Ben ; then you can sit in the chair while 
 
SUNDAY. Ill 
 
 I talk to you," commanded Thorny, tumbling into tlie 
 hammock. 
 
 " What's he goin' to say to me?" wondered Ben to 
 himself, as he sat down with Sanch sprawling among 
 the wheels. 
 
 "Now, Ben, I think you'd better learn a hymn; I 
 always used to when I was a little chap, and it is a good 
 thing to do Sundays," began the new teacher, with a 
 patronizing air, which ruffled his pupil as much as the 
 opprobrious term '' little chap." 
 
 " I '11 be — whew — if I do ! " whistled Ben, stopping 
 an oath just in time. 
 
 " It is not polite to whistle in company," said Thorny, 
 with great dignity. 
 
 "Miss Celia told me to. I'll say 'confound it,' if 
 you hke that better," answered Ben, as a sly smile 
 twinkled in his eyes. 
 
 " Oh, I see ! She's told you about it? Well, then, 
 if you want to please her^ you 'U learn a hymn right 
 off. Come, now, she wants me to be clever to you, 
 and I 'd like to do it ; but if you get peppery, how 
 can I?" 
 
 Thorny spoke in a hearty, blunt way, which suited 
 Ben much better than the other, and he responded 
 pleasantly, — 
 
 " If you won't be grand I won't be peppery. Nobody 
 is going to boss me but Miss Ceha ; so I '11 learn hymns 
 If she wants me to." 
 
 " ' In the soft season of thy jouth' is a good one to 
 begin with. I learned it when I was six. Nice thing ; 
 better have it." And Thorny offered the book like a 
 patriarch addressing an infant. 
 
112 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Ben surveyed the yellow page with small favor, for 
 the long s in the old-fashioned printing bewildered hun ; 
 and when he came to the last two ^ines, he could not 
 resist reading them wrong, — 
 
 " The earth SLffords no lovelier ^Ai 
 Than a religious youth." 
 
 " I don't believe I could ever get that into my head 
 straight. Haven't you got a plain one any where 
 round?" he asked, turning over the leaves with some 
 anxiety. 
 
 ''Look at the end, and see if there isn't a piece of 
 poetry pasted in. You learn that, and see how funny 
 Celia wiU look when you say it to her. She wrote it 
 when she was a girl, and somebody had it printed for 
 Other children. / like it best, myself." 
 
 Pleased by the prospect of a little fun to cheer his 
 virtuous task, Ben whisked over the leaves, and read 
 with interest the lines Miss Celia had written In her 
 girlhood : — 
 
 "MY KINGDOM. 
 
 " A little kingdom I possess, 
 
 Where thoughts and feelings dwell ; 
 
 And very hard I find the task 
 Of governing it well. 
 
 For passion tempts and troubles me, 
 A wayward will misleads, 
 
 And seliishness its shadow casts 
 
 " On all my words and deeds. 
 
 How can I learn to rule myself, 
 
 To be the child I should, — 
 Honest and brave, — nor e-^e^ tire 
 Of trying to be good> 
 
SUNDAY, IIH 
 
 How can I keep a sunny soul 
 
 To shine along life's way % 
 How can I tune my little heart 
 
 To sweetly sing all day 1 
 
 " Dear Father, help me with the love 
 
 That casteth out my fear I 
 Teach me to lean on thee, and feel 
 
 That thou art very near ; 
 That no temptation is unseen, 
 
 No childish grief too small. 
 Since Thou, with patience infinite, 
 
 Doth soothe and comfort all. 
 
 " I do not ask for any crown, 
 
 But that which all may win ; 
 Nor seek to conquer any worTl 
 
 Except the one within. 
 Be Thou my guide until I find, 
 
 Led by a tender hand. 
 Thy happy kingdom in myself, 
 
 And dare to take command." 
 
 ** I like that ! " said Ben, emphatically, when he had 
 read the little hymn. *' I understand it, and I '11 learn 
 it right away. Don't see how she could make it all 
 come out so nice and pretty." 
 
 " Celia can do any thing ! " and Thorny gave an all- 
 embracing wave of the hand, which forcibly expressed 
 his firm behef in his sister's boundless powers. 
 
 " I made some poetry once. Bab and Betty thought 
 It was first-rate. / didn't," said Ben, moved to con- 
 fidence by the discovery of Miss Celia's poetic skill. 
 
 *•*■ Say it," commanded Thorny, adding with tact, 
 " / can't make any to save my life, — never could ; 
 but I'm fond of it." 
 
114 UNDER THE LILAOs. 
 
 " Chevalita, 
 Pretty creter, 
 I do love her 
 Like a brother ; 
 Just to ride 
 Is my delight, 
 For she does not 
 Kick or bite/' 
 
 recited Ben with modest pride, for his first attempt 
 had been inspu-ed by sincere affection, and pronounced 
 " lovely" by the admiring girls. 
 
 '' Very good ! You must say them to Celia, too. She 
 likes to hear Lita praised. You and she and that httle 
 Barlow boy ought to try for a prize, as the poets did in 
 Athens. I'll tell you all about it some time. Now, 
 you peg away at your hjinn." 
 
 Cheered by Thorn}''s commendation, Ben fell to work 
 at his new task, squuming about in the chair as if the 
 process of getting words into his memory was a very 
 painful one. But he had quick wits, and had often 
 learned comic songs ; so he soon was able to repeat 
 the four verses without mistake, much to his own and 
 l'licm}''s satisfaction. 
 
 "Now we'll talk," said the well-pleased preceptor, 
 and talk they did, one swinging in the hammock, the 
 other rolling about on the pine-needles, as they related 
 their exi)eriences boy- fashion. Ben's were the most ex- 
 citing ; but Thomy's were not without interest, for he 
 had lived abroad for several years, and could tell all 
 sorts of droll stories of the countries he had seen. 
 
 Busied with friends. Miss Ceha could not help won- 
 dering how the lads got on ; and, when the tea-bell 
 rang, waited a little anxiously for their retm-n, knowing 
 
SUNDAY, 116 
 
 that she could tell at a glance if they had enjoyed 
 themselves. 
 
 " All goes well so far," she thought, as she watched 
 their approach with a smile ; for Sancho sat bolt upright 
 in the chair which Ben pushed, while Thorny strolled 
 beside him, leaning on a stout cane newly cut. Both 
 boys were talking busily, and Thorny laughed from time 
 to time, as if his comrade's chat was very amusing. 
 
 " See what a jolly cane Ben cut for me ! He 's great 
 fun if you don't stroke him the wrong way," said the 
 elder lad, flourishing his stafl" as they came up. 
 
 *' What have you been doing down there ? You look 
 so merry, I suspect mischief," asked Miss Celia, sur- 
 veying them from the steps. 
 
 "We've been as good as gold. I talked, and Ben 
 learned a h3Tnn to please you. Come, young man, 
 say your piece," said Thorny, with an expression of 
 virtuous content. 
 
 Taking off his hat, Ben soberly obeyed, much enjoy- 
 ing the quick color that came up in Miss Celia' s face as 
 she listened, and feehng as if well repaid for the labor 
 of learning by the pleased look with which she said, as 
 he ended with a bow, — 
 
 "I feel very proud to think you chose that, and to 
 hear you say it as if it meant something to you. I was 
 only fourteen when I wrote it ; but it came right out of 
 aiy heart, and did me good. I hope it may help you 
 A httle." 
 
 Ben murmured that he guessed it would ; but felt too 
 fihy to talk about such things before Thorny, so hastily 
 retired to put the chair away, and the others went in to 
 tea. But later in the evening, when Miss Ceha was 
 
116 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 singing like a nightingale, the boy slipped away from 
 sleepy Bab and Betty to stand by the syringa bush and 
 listen, with his heart full of new thoughts and happy 
 feehngs ; for never before had he spent a Sunday like 
 this. And when he went to bed, instead of sapng 
 ''Now I lay me," he repeated the third verse of Miss 
 Celia's hymn ; for that was his favorite, because his 
 longing for the father whom he had seen made it seem 
 sweet and natural now to love and lean, without fear, 
 upon the Father whom he had not seen. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 GOOD TIMES. 
 
 EVERY one was very kind to Ben when his loss was 
 known. The Squire wrote to Mr. Smithers that 
 the boy had found friends and would stay where he was. 
 Mrs. Moss consoled him in her motherly way, and the 
 little girls did their very best to "be good to poor 
 Benny.*' But Miss Celia was his truest comforter, and 
 completely won his heart, not only by the friendly words 
 she said and the pleasant things she did, but by the un- 
 spoken sympathy which showed itself, just at the right 
 minute, in a look, a touch, a smile, more helpful than 
 any amount of condolence. She called him "• my man," 
 and Ben tried to be one, bearing his trouble so bravely 
 that she respected him, although he was only a httle 
 boy, because it promised well for the future. 
 
 Then she was so happy herself, it was impossible for 
 those about her to be sad, and Ben soon gTew cheerful 
 again in spite of the very tender memory of his father 
 laid quietly away in the safest corner of his heart. He 
 would have been a very unboyish boy if he had not been 
 happy, for the new place was such a pleasant one, he 
 soon felt as if, for the first time, he really had a home. 
 
 No more grubbing now, but daily tasks which never 
 grew tiresome, they were so varied and so light. No 
 
118 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 more cross Pats to try his temper, but the sweetest 
 mistress that ever was, since praise was oftener on hei 
 lips than blame, and gratitude made willing service a 
 delight 
 
 At first, it seemed as if there was going to be trouble 
 between the two hoys ; for Thorny was naturally mas- 
 terful, and illness had left him weak and nervous, so he 
 was often both domineering and petulant. Ben had 
 oeen taught instant obedience to those older than him- 
 self, and if Thorny had been a man Ben would have 
 made no complaint; but it was hard to be "ordered 
 round " by a boy, and ar^ unreasonable one into the 
 bargain. 
 
 A word from Miss Ceha blew away the threatening 
 cloud, however ; and for her sake her brother promised 
 to try to be patient ; for her sake Ben declared he never 
 would " get mad " if Mr. Thorny did fidget ; and both 
 very soon forgot all about master and man and hved 
 together Mke two Mendly lads, taking each other's ups 
 and downs good-naturedly, and finding mutual pleasure 
 and profit in the new companionship. 
 
 The only point on which they never could agree was 
 legs, and many a hearty laugh did they give Miss Celia 
 by their warm and serious discussion of this vexed ques- 
 tion. Thorny insisted that Ben was bow-legged ; Ben 
 resented the epithet, and declared that the legs of all 
 good horsemen must have a slight curve, and any one 
 who knew any thing about the matter would acknowl- 
 edge both its necessit}'' and its beauty. Then Thorny 
 would observe that it might be all very well in the sad- 
 dle, but it made a man waddle like a duck when afoot ; 
 whereat Ben would retort that, for his part, he woul^ 
 
GOOD TIMES. 119 
 
 rather waddle like a duck than tumble abcut like a 
 horse with the staggers. He had his opponent there, 
 for poor Thorny did look very like a weak-t aeed colt 
 when he tried to walk ; but he would never ot n it, and 
 came down upon Ben with crushing allusion i; to cen- 
 taurs, or the Greeks and Romans, who were fac.ous both 
 for their horsemanship and fine hmbs. Ben (-ould not 
 answer that, except by proudly referring to the chariot- 
 races copied from the ancients, in which he h:ii.d borne 
 a part, which was more than some folks with long legs 
 could say. Gentlemen never did that sort of thing, 
 nor did they twit their best friends with then' niisfor- 
 tunes. Thorny would remark ; casting a pensi-ve glance 
 at his thin hands, longing the while to give Ben a good 
 shaking. This hint would remind the other of hia young 
 master's late sufferings and all he owed his d<>ar mis- 
 tress ; and he usually ended the controversy by turning 
 a few lively somersaults as a vent for his swelling, wrath, 
 and come up with his temper all right again. Or, if 
 Thorny happened to be in the wheeled chair, ho would 
 trot him round the garden at a pace which nearly took 
 his breath away, thereby proving that if "bow-legs" 
 were not beautiful to some benighted beings they were 
 * ' good to go." 
 
 Thorny liked that, and would drop the subject for the 
 time by pohtely introducing some more agreeable topic ; 
 so the impending quarrel would end in a laugh over 
 some bojdsh joke, and the word "legs" be avoided by 
 mutual consent till accident brought it up again. 
 
 The spirit of rivalry is hidden in the best of us, and 
 is a helpful and inspiring power if we know how to use 
 it. Miss Celia knew this, and tried to make the lads' 
 
120 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 help one another by means of it, — not in boastful or 
 ungenerous comparison of each other's gifts, but by 
 interchanging them, giving and taking freely, kindly, 
 and being glad to love what was admirable wherever 
 they found it. Thorny admired Ben's strength, activity, 
 and independence ; Ben envied Thornj^s learning, good 
 manners, and comfortable surroundings ; and, when a 
 wise word had set the matter rightly before them, both 
 enjoyed the feeling that there was a certain equality 
 between them, since money could not buy health, and 
 practical knowledge was as useful as any that can be 
 found in books. So they interchanged their small ex- 
 periences, accomplishments, and pleasures, and both 
 were the better, as well as the happier, for it ; >»f'.cause 
 in this way only can we trul}' love our neighbor as our- 
 self, and get the real sweetness out of life. 
 
 There was no end to the new and pleasant things 
 Ben had to do, from keeping paths and flower-beds 
 neat, feeding the pets, and running errands, to waiting 
 on Thorny and being right-hand man to Miss Celia. 
 He had a httle room in the old house, newly papered 
 with hunting scenes, which he was never tired of ad- 
 miring. In the closet hung several out-grown suits of 
 Thomj^s, made over for his valet ; and, what Ben valued 
 infinitely more, a pair of boots, well blacked and ready 
 for grand occasions, when he rode abroad, with one old 
 spur, found in the attic, brightened up and merely worn 
 for show, since nothing would have induced him to prick 
 beloved Lita with it. 
 
 Many pictures, cut from illustrated papers, of races, 
 animals, and birds, were stuck round the room, giving 
 it rather the air of a circus and menagerie. This, how- 
 
GOOD TIMES. 121 
 
 ever, made it only the more home-like to its present 
 owner, who felt exceedingly rich and respectable as he 
 surveyed his premises ; almost like a retired showman 
 who still fondly remembers past successes, though now 
 happy in the more private walks of hfe. 
 
 In one di'awer of the quaint httle bureau which he 
 used^ were kept the relics of his father ; \qtj few and 
 poor, and of no interest to any one but himself, — only 
 the letter telling of his death, a worn-out watch-chain, 
 and a photograph of Senor Jos6 Montebello, with his 
 youthful son standing on his head, both airily attired, 
 and both smihng with the calmly superior expression 
 which gentlemen of their profession usually wear in 
 pubhc. Ben's other treasures had been stolen with his 
 bundle ; but these he cherished and often looked at 
 when he went to bed, wondering what heaven was like, 
 since it was loveher than California, and usually fell 
 asleep with a di-eamy impression that it must be some- 
 thing like America when Columbus found it, — "a 
 pleasant land, where were gay flowers and tall trees, 
 with leaves and fruit such as they had never seen 
 before." And through this happy hunting-ground 
 "father" was for ever riding on a beau tifuL white 
 horse with wings, like the one of which Miss Celia had 
 a picture. 
 
 Nice times Ben had in his little room poring over 
 iiia books, for he soon had several of his own; but 
 bJs favorites were Hamerton's "Animals" and "Our 
 Dumb Friends," both full of interesting pictures and 
 anecdotes such as boys love. StiU nicer times work- 
 ing about the house, hel})ing get things in order ; and 
 best of all were the daily drives with Miss Celia and 
 
122 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Thorny, when weather permitted, or solitary rides to 
 town through the heaviest rain, for certain letters must 
 go and come, no matter how the elements raged. The 
 neighbors soon got used to the " antics of that boy," 
 but Ben knew that he was an object of interest as he 
 careered down the main street in a way that made old 
 ladies cry out and brought people flying to the window, 
 sure that some one was being run away with. Lita 
 enjoyed the fun as much as he, and apparently did her 
 best to send him heels over head, having rapidly learned 
 to understand the signs he gave her by the touch of 
 hand and foot, or the tones of his voice. 
 
 These performances caused the boys to regard Ben 
 Brown with intense admiration, the girls with timid 
 awe, all but Bab, who burned to imitate htm, and tried 
 her best whenever she got a chance, much to the an- 
 guish and dismay of poor Jack, for that long-suffering 
 animal was the only steed she was allowed to nde. 
 Fortunately, neither she nor Betty had much time for 
 play just now, as school was about to close for the long 
 vacation, and all the httle people were busy finishing 
 up, that they might go to play with free minds. So the 
 ''hiac-parties," as they called them, were deferred till 
 later, and the lads amused themselves in their own way, 
 with Miss Celia to suggest and advise. 
 
 It took Thorny a long time to aiTange his possessions, 
 for he could only direct while Ben unpacked, wondering 
 and admiring as he worked, because he had never seen 
 so many bo}ish treasures before. The little printing- 
 press was his especial dehght, and leaving every thing 
 else in confusion, Thornj^ taught him its use and 
 Dlanned a newspaper on the spot, with Ben for printer, 
 
OOOD TIMES, 123 
 
 himself for editor, and " Sister" for chief contributor, 
 while Bab should be carrier and Betty office-boy. Next 
 came a postage stamp book, and a rainy day was hap- 
 pily spent in pasting a new collection where each par- 
 ticular one belonged, with copious explanations from 
 Thorny as they went along. Ben did not feel any great 
 interest in this amusement after one trial of it, but 
 when a book containing patterns of the flags of all na- 
 tions turned up, he was seized with a desire to copy 
 them all^ so that the house could be fitty decorated on 
 gala occasions. Finding that it amused her brother, 
 Miss Celia generously opened her piece-drawer and 
 rag-bag, and as the mania grew till her resources were 
 exhausted, she bought bits of gay cambric and many- 
 colored papers, and startled the store-keeper by pur- 
 chasing several bottles of mucilage at once. Bab and 
 Betty were in\dted to sew the bright strips or stars, 
 and pricked their little fingers assiduously, finding this 
 sort of needle-work much more attractive than piecing 
 bed-quilts. 
 
 Such a snipping and pasting, planning and stitching 
 as went on in the big back room, which was given up 
 to them, and such a noble array of banners and pen- 
 nons as soon decorated its walls, would have caused 
 tlie dullest eye to brighten with amusement, if not with 
 admiration. Of course, the Stars and Stripes hung 
 highest, with the English lion ramping on the royal 
 standard close by; then followed a regular picture- 
 gallery, for there was the white elephant of Siam, the 
 splendid peacock of Burmah, the double-headed Rus- 
 sian eagle, and black dragon of China, the winged hon 
 of Venice, and the prancing pair on the red, white, and 
 
124 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 blue flag of Holland. The keys and mitre of the Papal 
 States were a hard job, but up they went at last, with 
 the yellow crescent of Tui'key on one side and the red 
 full moon of Japan on the other ; the pretty tlue and 
 white flag of Greece hung below and the cross of free 
 Switzerland above. If materials had held out, the 
 Sags of all the United States would have followed ; but 
 paste and patience were exhausted, so the busy workers 
 rested awhile before they "flung their banner to the 
 breeze," as the newspapers have it. 
 
 A spell of ship-building and rigging followed the 
 flag fit ; for Thorny, feehng too old now for such toys, 
 made over his whole fleet to "the children," conde- 
 scending, however, to superintend a thorough repairing 
 of the same before he disposed of all but the big man- 
 of-war, which continued to ornament his own room, 
 with all sail set and a little red officer perpetually wav- 
 ing his sword on the quarter-deck. 
 
 These gifts led to out-of-door water- works, for the 
 brook had to be dammed up, that a shallow ocean might 
 be made, where Ben's pu'atical " Red Rover," with the 
 black flag, might chase and capture Bab's smart frigate, 
 "Queen," while the "Bounding Betsey," laden with 
 lumber, safely sailed from Kennebunkport to Massa- 
 chusetts Bay. Thorny, from his chair, was chief- 
 fngineer, and directed his gang of one how to dig the 
 basin, throw up the embankment, and finally let in the 
 water till the mimic ocean was full ; then regulate 
 the little water-gate, lest it should overflow and wreck 
 the pretty squadron of ships, boats, canoes, and rafts, 
 which soon rode at anchor there. 
 
 Digging and paddhng in mud and water proved such 
 
GOOD TIMES. 125 
 
 a delightful pastime that the boys kept it up, till a 
 series of water-wheels, little mills and cataracts made 
 the once quiet brook look as if a manufacturing town 
 was about to spring up where hitherto minnows had 
 played in peace and the retiring frog had chanted his 
 serenade unmolested. 
 
 Miss Celia liked all this, for any thing which would 
 keep Thorny happy out-of-doors in the sweet June 
 weather found favor in her eyes, and when the novelty 
 had worn off from home affairs, she planned a series 
 of exploring expeditions which filled their bo}ish souls 
 with delight. As none of them knew much about the 
 place, it really was quite exciting to start off on a 
 bright morning with a roll of wraps and cushions, 
 lunch, books, and drawing materials packed into the 
 phaeton, and drive at random about the shady roads 
 and lanes, pausing when and where they liked. Won- 
 derful discoveries were made, pretty places were named, 
 plans were drawn, and all sorts of merry adventui-es 
 befell the pilgiims. 
 
 Each day they camped in a new spot, and while Lita 
 nibbled the fresh grass at her ease. Miss Oeha sketched 
 under the big umbrella. Thorny read or lounged or slept 
 on his rubber blanket, and Ben made himself generally 
 useful. Unloading, filling the artist's water-bottle, pil 
 ing the invahd's cushions, setting out the lunch, run 
 ning to and fro for a flower or a butterfly, climbing a 
 tree to report the view, reading, chatting, or frolicking 
 with Sancho, — any sort of duty was in Ben's line, and 
 he did them all well, for an out-of-door life was natural 
 to him and he liked it 
 
 *' Ben, I want an amanuensis," said Thorny, drop 
 
11^6 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 ^ing book and pencil one day after a biief interval of 
 silence, broken only by the whisper of the young leaves 
 overhead and the soft babble of the brook close by. 
 
 "A what?" asked Ben, pushing back his hat with 
 such an air of amazement that Thorny rather loftily 
 inquired : 
 
 "Don't you know what an amanuensis is?" 
 
 *' Well, no ; not unless it's some relation to an ana- 
 conda. Shouldn't think you 'd want one of them, any- 
 way." 
 
 Thorny rolled over with a hoot of derision, and his 
 Bister, who sat close by, sketching an old gate, looked 
 up to see what was going on. 
 
 "Well, you needn't laugh at a feller. You didn't 
 know what a wombat was when I asked you, and 1 
 didn't roar," said Ben, giving his hat a slap, as noth- 
 ing else was handy. 
 
 " The idea of wanting an anaconda tickled me so, 1 
 couldn't help it. I dare say you 'd have got me one if 
 I had asked for it, you are such an obhging chap." 
 
 " Of course I would if I could. Shouldn't be sur- 
 prised if you did some day, you want such funny 
 things," answered Ben, appeased by the compliment. 
 
 "I'll try the amanuensis first. It's only some one 
 to write for me ; I get so tired doing it without a table. 
 You write well enough, and it will be good for you to 
 know something about botany. I intend to teach you» 
 Ben," said Thorny, as if conferring a great favor. 
 
 " It looks pretty hard," muttered Ben, with a doleful 
 glance at the book laid open upon a strew of torn leaves 
 and flowers. 
 
 " No, it isn't ; it 's regularly jolly ; and you 'd be no 
 
GOOD TIMES. 127 
 
 end of a help if you only knew a little. Now, suppose 
 I say, ' Bring me a " ranunculus bulbosus," ' how would 
 you know what I wanted ? " demanded Thorny, waying 
 his microscope with a learned air. 
 
 '' Shouldn't." 
 
 " There are quantities of them all round us ; and I 
 want to analyze one. See if you can't guess " 
 
 Ben stared vaguely from earth to sky, and was about 
 to give it up, when a buttercup fell at his feet, and he 
 caught sight of Miss Celia smiling at him from behind 
 her brother, who did not see the flower. 
 
 " S'pose you mean this? /don't call 'em rhinocerua 
 bulburses, so I wasn't sure." And, taking the hint as 
 quickly as it was given, Ben presented the buttercup 
 as if he knew all about it. 
 
 *'You guessed that remarkably well. Now bring 
 me a ' leontodon taraxacum,' " said Thorny, charmed 
 with the quickness of his pupil, and glad to display his 
 learning. 
 
 Again Ben gazed, but the field was full of early 
 flowers ; and, il' a long pencil had not pointed to a dan- 
 delion close by, he would have been lost, 
 
 " Here you are, sir," he answered with a chuckle • 
 and Thorny took his turn at being astonished now. 
 
 '^ How the dickens did you know that? " 
 
 " Try it again, and may be you'll find out," laughed 
 Ben, 
 
 Diving hap-hazard into his book. Thorny demanded 
 a " trifohum pratense." 
 
 The clever pencil pointed, and Ben brought a red 
 clover, mightily enjoying the joke, and thinking that 
 this kind of bc^^ny wasn't bad fun. 
 
128 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 '' Look here, no fooling ! " and Thorny sat up to in 
 vestigate the matter, so quickly that his sister had noj 
 time to sober down. *' Ah, I Ve caught you ! JSTot fail 
 to tell, Ceha. Now, Ben, you Ve got to learn all abou 
 this buttercup, to pay for cheating." 
 
 "Werry good, sir; bring on your rhiDoceriouses,"* 
 answered Ben, who couldn't help imitating his old friend 
 the clown when he felt particularly jolly. 
 
 " Sit there and write what I tell you," ordered 
 Thorny, with all the severity of a strict school- 
 master. 
 
 Perching himself on the mossy stump, Ben obediently 
 floundered tlirough the following analysis, with constant 
 help in the spelling, and much private wonder what 
 would come of it : — 
 
 " Phsenogamous. Exogenous. Angiosperm. Poly- 
 petalous. Stamens, more than ten. Stamens on the 
 receptacle. Pistils, more than one and separate. Leaves 
 without stipules. Crowfoot family. Genus ranunculus. 
 Botanical name, Ranunculus bulbosus." 
 
 '' Jerusalem ! what a flower ! Pistols and crows' feet, 
 and Polly put the kettles on, and Angv^ sperms and aL 
 the rest of 'em ! K that 's your botany, I won't take 
 any more, thank you," said Ben, as he paused as hot 
 and red as if he had been running a race. 
 
 "Yes, you will; you'll learn that all by heart, and 
 then I shall give you a dandehon to do. You'll like 
 that, because it means dent de lion, or hon's tooth ; and 
 I '11 show them to j'ou through my glass. You 've no 
 idea how interesting it is, and what heaps of pretty 
 things you '11 see," answered Thorny, who had already 
 discovered how charming the study was, and had found 
 
OOOB TIMES, 129 
 
 great satisfaction in it, since he had been forbidden 
 more active pleasures. 
 
 *' What's the good of it, any way?" asked Ben, who 
 would rather have been set to mowing the big field than 
 to the task before him. 
 
 *' It tells all about it in my book here, — * Gray's 
 Botany for Young People.' But I can tell you what use 
 it is to us" continued Thorny, crossing his legs in the air 
 and preparing to argue the matter, comfortably lying flat 
 on his back. " We are a Scientific Exploration Society, 
 and we must keep an account of all the plants, animals, 
 minerals, and so on, as we come across them. Then, sup- 
 pose we get lost, and have to hunt for food, how are we to 
 know what is safe and what isn't ? Come, now, do you know 
 the difference between a toadstool and a mushroom ? " 
 
 "No, I don't." 
 
 " Then I'U teach you some day. There is sweet flag 
 and poisonous flag, and all sorts of berries and things ; 
 and you 'd better look out when you are in the woods, 
 or you'll touch ivy and dogwood, and have a horrid 
 time, if you don't know your botany." 
 
 " Thorny learned much of his by sad experience ; 
 and you will be wise to take his advice," said Miss 
 Celia, recalling her brother's various mishaps before 
 the new fancy came on. 
 
 '' Didn't I have a time of it, though, when I had to 
 go round for a week with plantain leaves and cream 
 stuck all over my face ! Just picked some pretty red 
 dogwood, Ben • and then I was a regular guy, with a 
 face Hke a lobster, and my eyes swelled out of sight. 
 Come along, and learn right away, and never get into 
 scrapes like most fellows." 
 
130 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Ini|. ressed by this warning, and attracted by Thomy's 
 enthusiasm, Ben cast himself down upon the blanket, 
 and for an hour the two heads bobbed to and fro, from 
 microscope to book, the teacher airing his small knowl- 
 edge, the pupil more and more interested in the new and 
 curious things he saw or heard, — though it must be 
 confessed that Ben infinitely preferred to watch ants 
 and bugs, queer little worms and gauzy-winged flies, 
 rather than " putter" over plants with long names. He 
 did not dare to say so, however; but, when Thorny 
 asked him if it wasn't capital fun, he dodged cleverly 
 by proposing to hunt up the flowers for his master to 
 study, offering to learn about the dangerous ones, but 
 pleading want of time to investigate this pleasing science 
 very deeply. 
 
 As Thorny had talked himself hoarse, he was very 
 ready to dismiss his class of one to fish the milk-bottle 
 out of the brook ; and recess was prolonged till next 
 day. But both boys found a new pleasure in the pretty 
 pastime they made of it ; for active Ben ranged the 
 woods and fields with a tin box slung over his shoulder, 
 and feeble Thorny had a little room fitted up for his 
 own use, where he pressed fiowers in newspaper books, 
 dried herbs on the walls, had bottles and cups, pans and 
 platters, for his treasures, and made as much Utter as 
 he hked. 
 
 Presently, Ben brought such lively accounts of the 
 gi-een nooks where jacks-in-the-pulpit preached their 
 little sermons ; brooks, beside which grew blue violets 
 and lovely ferns ; rocks, round which danced the col- 
 umbines like rosy elves, or the trees where birds built, 
 sqiiin'els chattered, and woodchucks burro wed, that 
 
GOOD TIMES, 18i 
 
 Thorny was seized with a desire to go and see these 
 beauties for himself. So Jack was saddled, and went 
 plodding, scrambling, and wandering into] all manner 
 of pleasant places, always bringing home a stronger, 
 browner rider than he carried away. 
 
 This delighted Miss Ceha ; and she gladly saw them 
 ramble off together, leaving her time to stitch happily 
 at certain dainty bits of sewing, write voluminous letters, 
 or dream over others quite as long, swinging in hei 
 hammock under the lilacs. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 SOMEBODY RUNS A WAT 
 
 " School is done, 
 Now we '11 have fun/' 
 
 SUNG- Bab and Betty, slamming down their books 
 as if they never meant to take them up again, 
 when they came home on the last day of June. 
 
 Tired teacher had dismissed them for eight whole 
 weeks, and gone away to rest ; the little schoolhouse 
 was shut up, lessons were over, spirits rising fast, and 
 vacation had begun. The quiet town seemed suddenly 
 inundated with children, all in such a rampant state 
 that busy mothers wondered how they ever should be 
 able to keep their frisky darhngs out of mischief ; thrifty 
 fathers planned how they could bribe the idle hands to 
 pick hemes or rake hay ; and the old folks, while wish- 
 ing the young folks well, secretly blessed the man who 
 invented schools. 
 
 The girls immediately began to talk about picnics 
 and have them, too ; for little hats sprung up in the 
 fields like a new sort of mushroom, — every hillside 
 bloomed with gay gowns, looking as if the flowers had 
 gone out for a walk ; and the woods were full of feath- 
 erless birds chirjjing away as bhthely as the thrushes, 
 robins, and wi'ens. 
 
SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY, 133 
 
 The bo3^s took to base-ball like ducks to water ; and 
 the common was the scene of tremendous battles, waged 
 with much tumult, but little bloodshed. To the un- 
 initiated, it appeared as if these young men had lost their 
 wits ; for, no matter how warm it was, there they were, 
 tearing about in the maddest manner, jackets off, sleeves 
 rolled up, queer caps flung on any way, all batting 
 shabby leather balls, and catching the same, as if their 
 lives depended on it. Every one talking in his gruff- 
 est tone, bawling at the top of his voice, squabbhng 
 over every point of the game, and seeming to enjoy 
 himself immensely, in spite of the heat, dust, up- 
 roar, and imminent danger of getting eyes or teeth 
 knocked out. 
 
 Thorny was an excellent player, but, not being strong 
 enough to show his prowess, he made Ben his proxy ; 
 and, sitting on the fence, acted as umpire to his heart's 
 content. Ben was a promising pupil, and made rapid 
 progi'ess ; for eye, foot, and hand had been so well 
 trained, that they did him good service now ; and Brown 
 was considered a first-rate " catcher." 
 
 Sancho distinguished himself by his skill in hunting 
 up stray balls, and guarding jackets when not needed, 
 with the air of one of the Old Guard on duty at the 
 tomb of Napoleon. Bab also longed to join in the fun, 
 which suited her better than " stupid picnics "or " fuss- 
 ing over dolls ; " but her heroes would not have her 
 at any price ; and she was obliged to content herself 
 with sitting by Thorny, and watching with breathless 
 interest the varying fortunes of " our side." 
 
 A grand match was planned for the Fourth of July ; 
 but when the club met, things were found to be unpro 
 
131 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 pitious. Thorny had gone out of town with his sistei 
 to pass the day, two of the best players did not appear, 
 and the others were somewhat exhausted by the fes- 
 tivities, which began at sunrise for them. So they lay 
 about on the grass in the shade of the big elm, languidly 
 discussing their various wrongs and disappointments. 
 
 "It's the meanest Fourth I ever saw. Can't have 
 no crackers, because somebody's horse got scared last 
 year," growled Sam Kitteridge, bitterly resenting the 
 stern edict which forbade free-born citizens to burn as 
 much gunpowder as they liked on that glorious day. 
 
 " Last year Jimmy got his arm blown off when they 
 fired the old cannon. Didn't we have a Kvely time 
 going for the doctors and getting him home?" asked 
 another boy, looking as if he felt defrauded of the 
 most interesting part of the anniversary, because no 
 accident had occurred. 
 
 " Ain't going to be fireworks either, unless some- 
 bod}^s barn biuns up. Don't I just wish there would," 
 gloomily responded another youth who had so rashly 
 indulged in pyrotechnics on a former occasion that a 
 neighbor's cow had been roasted whole. 
 
 " I wouldn't give two cents for such a slow old place 
 as this. Why, last Fourth at this time, I was rumbling 
 through Boston streets up top of our big car, all in my 
 best toggery. Hot as pepper, but good fun looking in 
 at the upper windows and hearing the women scream 
 when the old thing waggled round and I made believe 
 I was going to tumble ofi*," said Ben, leaning on his 
 bat with the air of a man who had seen the world and 
 felt some natural regret at descending from so lofty a 
 sphere 
 
SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY. 135 
 
 " Catch me cutting away if I had such a chance 
 as that ! " answered Sam, trying to balance his bat on 
 his chin and getting a smart rap across the nose as he 
 failed to perform the feat. 
 
 "Much you know about it, old chap. It's hard 
 work, I can tell you, and that wouldn't suit such & 
 lazy-bones. Then you are too big to begin, though yon 
 might do for a fat boy if Smithers wanted one," said 
 Ben, surveying the stout youth with calm contempt. 
 
 " Let's go in swimming, not loaf round here, if we 
 can't play," proposed a red and shiny boy, panting for 
 a game of leap-frog in Sandy pond. 
 
 " May as well ; don't see much else to do," sighed 
 Sam, rising hke a young elephant. 
 
 The others were about to follow, when a shrill " Hi, 
 hi, boys, hold on ! " made them turn about to behold 
 Billy Barton tearing down the street like a runaway 
 colt, waving a long strip of paper as he ran. 
 
 "Now, then, what's the matter?" demanded Ben, 
 as the other came up grinning and puffing, but fuU of 
 great news. 
 
 "Look here, read it! I'm going; come along, the 
 whole of you," panted Billy, putting the paper into 
 Sam's hand, and surveying the crowd with a face as 
 beaming as a full moon. 
 
 "Look out for the big show," read Sam. " Vau 
 Amburgh & Co.'s New Great Golden Menagerie, Cir« 
 cus and Colosseum, will exhibit at Berryville, July 4th. 
 &t 1 and 7 precisely. Admission 50 cents, children 
 half-price. Don't forget day and date. H. Frost, 
 Manager." 
 
 While Sam read, the other boys had been gloating 
 
136 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 over the enticing pictures which covered the bill. 
 There was the golden car, filled with noble beings in 
 helmets, all playing on immense trumpets ; the twenty- 
 four prancing steeds with manes, tails, and feathered 
 heads tossing in the breeze ; the clowns, the tumblers, 
 the strong men, and the riders fljing about in the air 
 as if the laws of gravitation no longer existed. But, 
 best of all, was the grand conglomeration of animals 
 where the giraffe appears to stand on the elephant's 
 back, the zebra to be jumping over the seal, the hippo- 
 potamus to be lunching off a couple of crocodiles, and 
 lions and tigers to be raining down in all dii^ections 
 with their mouths wide open and their tails as stiff as 
 that of the famous Northumberland House hon. 
 
 "Cricky! wouldn't I like to see that," said little 
 C}TU8 Fay, devoutly hoping that the cage, in which 
 this pleasing spectacle took place, was a very strong 
 one. 
 
 " You never would, it 's only a picture ! That, now, 
 is something like," and Ben, who had pricked up his 
 ears at the word " circus," laid his finger on a smaller 
 cut of a man hanging by the back of his neck with a 
 child in each hand, two men suspended from his feet, 
 and the third swinging forward to alight on his head. 
 
 "I'm going," said Sam, with calm decision, for this 
 superb array of unknown pleasures fired his soul and 
 made him forget his weight. 
 
 ' ' How will 3'ou fix it ? " asked Ben, fingering the 
 bill with a nervous thrill all through his wiry limbs, just 
 as he used to feel it when his father caught him up to 
 dash into the ring. 
 
 "Foot it .ath Billy. It's only foui miles, and 
 
SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY. 137 
 
 we 've got lots of time, so we can take it easy. Mother 
 won't care, if I s-end word by Cy," answered Sam, pro- 
 ducing half a dollar, as if such magnificent sums were 
 no strangers to his pocket. 
 
 ''Come on, Brown; you'll be a first-rate fellow to 
 sIjow us round, as jow. know all the dodges," said Billy 
 anxious to get his money's worth. 
 
 "Well, I don't know," began Ben, longing to go, 
 but afraid Mrs. Moss would say "No!" if he asked 
 leave. 
 
 "He's afraid," sneered the red-faced boy, who felt 
 bitterly toward all mankind at that instant, because he 
 knew there was no hope of Ms going. 
 
 " Say that again, and I'll knock your head oflT," and 
 Ben faced round with a gesture which caused the other 
 to skip out of reach precipitately. 
 
 "Hasn't got any money, more likely," observed a 
 shabby youth, whose pockets never had any thing in 
 them but a pair of dirty hands. 
 
 Ben calmly produced a dollar bill and waved it defi- 
 antly before this doubter, observing with dignity : 
 
 "I've got money enough to treat the whole crowd, 
 if I choose to, which I don't." 
 
 "Then come along and have a jolly time with Sam 
 ftnd me. We can buy some dinner and get a ride home, 
 as like as not," said the amiable Billy, with a slap on 
 the shoulder, and a cordial grin which made it impossi- 
 ble for Ben to resist. 
 
 "What are you stopping for?" demanded Sam, 
 ready to be ofi", that they might "take it easy.-" 
 
 "Don't know what to do with Sancho. He'll gGt 
 lost or stolen if I take him, and it 's too far to carry 
 
lo8 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 him home if you are in a huny," began Ben, persna'i- 
 ing himself that this was the true reason of lua 
 delay. 
 
 *'Let Cy take him back. He'll do it for a cent; 
 won't you, Cy?" proposed Billy, smoothing away aU 
 objections, for he liked Ben, and saw that he wanted 
 to go. 
 
 *' No. I won't ; I don't like him. He winks at me, 
 and growls when I touch him," muttered naughty Cy, 
 remembering how much reason poor Sanch had to dis- 
 trust his tormentor. 
 
 *' There's Bab; she'll do it. Come here, sissy; 
 Ben wants you," called Sam, beckoning to a small 
 figure just perching on the fence. 
 
 Down it jumped and came fluttering up, much elated 
 at being summoned by the captain of the sacred nine. 
 
 ''I want you to take Sanch home, and tell your 
 mother I 'm going to walk, and may be won't be back 
 till sundown. Miss Celia said I might do what I pleased, 
 all day. You remember, now." 
 
 Ben spoke without looking up, and affected to be 
 very busy buckling a strap into Sanch's collar, for the 
 two were so seldom parted that the dog always rebelled. 
 It was a mistake on Ben's part, for while his eyes were 
 on his work Bab's were devouring the bill which Sam 
 still held, and her suspicions were aroused by the boys' 
 faces. 
 
 ''Where are you going? Ma will want to know," 
 she said, as curious as a magpie all at once. 
 
 " Never you mind ; girls can't know every thing. 
 Ton just catch hold of this and run along liome. Lock 
 Sanch u^ for an hour, and tell your mother I'm all 
 
SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY. 139 
 
 right," answered Ben, bound to assert his manly su* 
 premacy before his mates. 
 
 "He's going to the circus," whispered Fay, hoping 
 to make mischief. 
 
 " Circus ! Oh, Ben, do take me ! " cried Bab, falling 
 into a state of great excitement at the mere thought of 
 such delight. 
 
 " You couldn't walk four miles," began Ben. 
 
 *' Yes, I could, as easy as not." 
 
 " You haven't got any money." 
 
 " You have ; I saw you showing your dollar, and 3^00 
 could pay for me, and Ma would pay it back." 
 
 " Can't wait for you to get readj^" 
 
 " I '11 go as I am. I don't care if it is my old hat," 
 and Bab jerked it on to her head. 
 
 " Your mother wouldn't like it." 
 
 " She won't like your going, either." 
 
 "She isn't my missis now. Miss Ceha wouldnt 
 care, and I'm going, any way." 
 
 " Do, do take me, Ben ! I '11 be just as good as ever 
 was, and I '11 take care of Sanch all the way," pleaded 
 Bab, clasping her hands and looking round for some 
 sign of relenting in the faces of the boys. 
 
 " Don't you bother ; we don't want any g^rls tagging 
 after us," said Sam, walking off to escape the annoy- 
 ance. 
 
 "I'll bring you a roll of chickerberry lozengers, if 
 you won't tease," whispered kind-hearted Billy, with a 
 consoling pat on the crown of the shabby straw hat. 
 
 "When the circus comes here you shall go, certain 
 sure, and Betty too," said Ben, feehng mean while he 
 proposed what he knew was a hollow mockery. 
 
UO UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 "They never do come to such little ^owns ; rou s&id 
 so, and I think you are very cross, and 1 won't take cj»re 
 of Sanch, so, now ! " cried Bab, getting into a passion, 
 yet ready to cry, she was so disappointed. 
 
 "I suppose it wouldn't do — " hinted Billy with a 
 look from Ben to the little girl, who stood winking hard 
 to keep the tears back. 
 
 '' Of course it wouldn't. I 'd like to see her walking 
 eight miles. I don't mind pacing for her ; it 's getting 
 her there and back. Gii'ls are such a bother when 
 you want to knock round. No, Bab, you caret go. 
 Travel right home and don't make a fuss. Come along, 
 boys ; it 's most eleven, and we don't want to walk 
 fast." 
 
 Ben spoke very decidedly ; and, taking Bill}^s arm, 
 away they went, leaving poor Bab and Sanch to watch 
 them out of sight, one sobbing, the other whining dis- 
 maUy. 
 
 Somehow those two figures seemed to go before Ben 
 all along the pleasant road, and half spoilt his fun ; for 
 though he laughed and talked, cut canes, and seemed 
 as merry as a grig, he could not help feeling that he 
 ought to have asked leave to go, and been kinder to 
 Bab. 
 
 "Perhaps Mrs. Moss would have planned somehow 
 ao we could all go, if I 'd told her. I 'd like to show 
 her round, and she 's been real good to me. No use 
 now. I '11 take the girls a lot of candy and make it all 
 right." 
 
 He tried to settle it in that way and trudged gayly 
 on, hoping Sancho wouldn't feel hurt at being left, 
 wondering if any of " Smithers's lot " would be round, 
 
SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY, 141 
 
 and planning to do the honors handsomely to the 
 boys. 
 
 It was very warm ; and just outside of the town they 
 paused by a wayside watering-trough to wash their 
 dusty faces, and cool off before plunging into the ex- 
 citements of the afternoon. As they stood refreshing 
 themselves, a baker's cart came jingling by ; and Sam 
 proposed a hasty lunch while they rested. A supply 
 of gingerbread was soon bought ; and, climbing the 
 green bank above, they lay on the grass under a wild 
 cherry-tree, munching luxuriously, while they feasted 
 their eyes at the same time on the splendors awaiting 
 them ; for the great tent, with all its flags flying, was 
 visible from the hill. 
 
 "We'll cut across those flelds, — it's shorter than 
 going by the road, — and then we can look round out- 
 side till it 's time to go in. I want to have a good go 
 at every thing, especially the hons," said Sam, begin- 
 ning on his last cookie. 
 
 " I heard 'em roar just now ; " and Billy stood up to 
 gaze with big eyes at the flapping canvas which hid the 
 king of beasts from his longing sight. 
 
 " That was a cow mooing. Don't you be a donkey, 
 Bill. When you hear a real roar, you '11 shake in youi 
 boots," said Ben, holding up his handkerchief to dry, 
 after it had done double duty as towel and napkin. 
 
 *'I wish you'd hurry up, Sam. Folks are going in 
 now. I see 'em ! " and Billy pranced with impatience ; 
 for this was his flrst circus, and he firmly believed that 
 he was going to behold all that the pictures promised. 
 
 *' Hold on a minute, while I get one more drink. 
 Buns are dr;y fodder," said Sam, rolling over to the 
 
142 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 edge of the bank and preparing to descend with as little 
 trouble as possible. 
 
 He nearly went down head first, however ; for, as he 
 looked before he leaped, he beheld a sight which caused 
 him to stare with all his might for an instant, then turn 
 and beckon, saying in an eager whisper, "Look here, 
 boys, — quick ! " 
 
 Ben and Billy peered over, and both suppressed an 
 astonished " Hullo ! " for there stood Bab, waiting for 
 Sancho to lap his fill out of the overflowing trough. 
 
 Such a shabby, tired-looking couple as they were ! 
 Bab with a face as red as a lobster and sti-eaked with 
 tears, shoes white with dust, plaj^frock torn at the 
 gathers, something bundled up in her apron, and one 
 shoe down at the heeV as if it hurt her. Sancho lapped 
 eagerly, with his eyes shut ; all his ruffles were gray 
 with dust, and his tail hung wearily down, the tassel 
 at half mast, as if in mourning for the master whom 
 he had come to find. Bab stiU held the strap, intent 
 on keeping her charge safe, though she lost herself; 
 but her courage seemed to be giving out, as she looked 
 anxiously up and down the road, seeing no sign of the 
 three familiar figures she had been following as steadily 
 as a little Indian on the war- trail. 
 
 " Oh, Sanch, what shall I do if they doo't come along? 
 We must have gone by them somewhere, for I don't see 
 any one that way,, and there isn't any other road to the 
 circus, seems to me." 
 
 Bab spoke as if the dog could understand and answer ; 
 and Sancho looked as if he did both, for he stopped 
 drinking, pricked up his ears, and, fixing his sharp eyes 
 on Ihe grass above him, gave a suspicions^ bark. 
 
SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY. 143 
 
 *'It's only squirrels; don't mind, but come along 
 and be good ; for I 'm so tired, I don't know what to 
 do!" sighed Bab, trying to pull him after her as she 
 trudged on, bound to see the outside of that wonderful 
 tent, even if she never got in. 
 
 But Sancho had heard a soft chirrup ; and, with a 
 sndden bound, twitched the strap away, sprang up the 
 bank, and landed directly on Ben's back as he lay peep- 
 ing over. A peal of laughter greeted him ; and, ha\ing 
 got the better of his master in more ways than one, he 
 made the most of the advantage by playfully worrying 
 hun as he kept him down, licking his face in spite of 
 his struggles, burrowing in his neck with a ticklish nose, 
 snapping at his buttons, and yelping joyfully, as if it 
 was the best joke in the world to play hide-and-seek for 
 four long miles. 
 
 Before Ben could quiet him, Bab came climbing ujj 
 the bank, with such a funny mixture of fear, fatigue, 
 determination, and relief in her dirty little face, that 
 the boys could not look awful if they tried. 
 
 "How dared you come after us, miss?" demanded 
 Sam, as she looked calmly about her, and took a seat 
 before she was asked. 
 
 " Sanch would come after Ben ; I couldn't make him 
 go home, so I had to hold on till he was safe here, else 
 iie 'd be lost, and then Ben would feel bad." 
 
 The cleverness of that excuse tickled the boys im- 
 mensely ; and Sam tried again, while Ben was getting 
 the dog down and sitting on him. 
 
 " Now you expect to go to the circus, I suppose." 
 
 " Course I do. Ben said he didn't mind paying, if 
 I could get there without bothering him, and I ha^e ; 
 
144 UJSDER THE LILACS, 
 
 and I '11 go home alone. I ain't afraid. Sanch will take 
 care of me, if you won't," answered Bab, stoutly. 
 
 "What do you suppose your mother will say to 
 you?" asked Ben, feeling much reproached by her last 
 words. 
 
 " I guess she'll say you led me into mischief; " and 
 the sharp child nodded, as if she defied him to deny the 
 feruth of that. 
 
 '* You'll catch it when you get home, Ben ; so you'd 
 better have a good time while you can," advised Sam, 
 thinking Bab great fun, since none of the blame of 
 her pranks would fall on him. 
 
 " What would you have done if you hadn't found 
 UB?" asked Billy, forgetting his impatience in his ad- 
 miration for this plucky young lady. 
 
 *' I'd have gone on and seen the circus, and then I 'd 
 have gone home again and told Betty all about it," was 
 the prompt answer. 
 
 " But you haven't any money." 
 
 " Oh, I 'd ask somebody to pay for me. I 'm so little, 
 it wouldn't be much." 
 
 ''Nobody would do it ; so you 'd have to stay outside, 
 you see." 
 
 " No, I wouldn't. I thought of that, and planned how 
 T 'd fix it if I didn't find Ben. I 'd make Sanch do his 
 kicks, and get a quarter that way ; so, now ! " answered 
 Dab, undaunted by any obstacle. 
 
 ''I do believe she would ! You are a smart, child, 
 Bab ; and if I had enough I 'd take you in myself," 
 said Billy, heartily ; for, having sisters of his own, he 
 kept a sofb place in his heart for girls, especially enter- 
 prising ones. 
 
SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY. 145 
 
 *' T '11 take care of her. It was very naughty to come, 
 Bab ; but, so long as you did, you needn't wony about 
 any thing. I '11 see to you ; and you shall have a real 
 good time," said Ben, accepting his responsibilities 
 without a murmur, and bound to do the handsome thing 
 by his persistent friend. 
 
 "• I thought you would ; " and Bab folded her armSf 
 as if she had nothing further to do but enjoy herself. 
 
 "Are you hungiy?" asked Billy, fishing out several 
 fragments of gingerbread. 
 
 '' Starving!" and Bab ate them with such a rehsh 
 that Sam added a small contribution ; and Ben caught 
 some water for her in his hand, where the little spring 
 bubbled up beside a stone. 
 
 "Now, you wash your face and spat down your 
 hair, and put your hat on straight, and then we'll 
 go," commanded Ben, giving Sanch a roll on the grass 
 to clean him. 
 
 Bab scrubbed her face till it shone ; and, pulling down 
 her apron to wipe it, scattered a load of treasures col- 
 lected in her walk. Some of the dead flowers, bits of 
 moss, and green twigs fell near Ben, and one attracted 
 his attention, — a spray of broad, smooth leaves, with 
 a bunch of whitish berries on it. 
 
 " Where did you get that?" he asked, poking it with 
 his foot. 
 
 "In a swampy place, coming along. Sanch saw 
 something down there ; and I went with him, 'cause 1 
 thought may be it was a musk-rat, and you 'd like one 
 if we could get him." 
 
 . "Was it?" asked the boys all at once, and w.th 
 intense interest. 
 
 7 J 
 
146 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 "No; only a snake, and I don't care for snakes. 
 I picked some of that, it was so green and pretty. 
 Thorny likes queer leaves and berries, you know," an- 
 swered Bab, " spatting" down her rough locks. 
 
 " Well, he won't like that, nor you either; it's poi- 
 sonous, and I shouldn't wonder if you'd got poisoned, 
 Bab. Don't touch it ! swamp-sumach is horrid stuff, - — 
 JVIiss Celia said so ; " and Ben looked anxiously at Bab, 
 who felt her chubby face all over, and examined hei 
 ding}" hands with a solemn air, asking eagerly, — 
 
 " Will it break out on me 'fore I get to the circus? " 
 
 "Not for a day or so, I guess; but it's bad wheii 
 it does come." 
 
 " I don't care, if I see the animals first. Come quick, 
 and never mind the old weeds and things," said Bab, 
 much relieved ; for present bliss was ail she had room 
 for now in her happy little heart. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 SOMEBODY GETS LOST. 
 
 PUTTING- all care behind them, the young folks rao 
 down the hiU, with a very liyely dog gambolling 
 beside them, and took a delightfully tantalizing survey 
 of the external charms of the big tent. But people 
 were beginning to go in, and it was impossible to delay 
 when they came round to the entrance. 
 
 Ben felt that now " his foot was on his native heath," 
 and the superb air of indifference with which he thi-ew 
 down his dollar at the ticket-office, carelessly swept up 
 the change, and stroUed into the tent with his hands in 
 his pockets, was so impressive that even big Sam re- 
 pressed his excitement and meekly followed their leader, 
 as he led them from cage to cage, doing the honors as 
 if he owned the whole concern. Bab held tight to the 
 flap of his jacket, staring about her with round eyes, 
 and listening with little gasps of astonishment or delight 
 to the roaring of lions, the snarling of tigers, the chatter 
 of the monkeys, the gi^oaning of camels, and the music 
 of the very brass band shut up in a red bin. 
 
 Five elephants were tossing their hay about in the 
 middle of the menagerie, and Billy's legs shook under 
 him as he looked up at the big beasts whose long noses 
 
148 ZNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 and small, sagacious eyes filled him with awe. Sam was 
 so tickled by the droll monkeys that the others left him 
 before the cage and went on to see the zebra, '' striped 
 just like Ma's muslin gown," Bab declared. But the 
 next minute she forgot all about him in her raptures over 
 the ponies and their tiny colts ; especially one mite of a 
 thing who lay asleep on the hay, such a miniature cop5 
 of its Kttle mouse-colored mamma that one could hardlj 
 believe it was alive. 
 
 "Oh, Ben, I must feel of it! — the cunning baby 
 horse ! " and down went Bab inside the rope to pat and 
 admire the pretty creature, while its mother smelt 
 suspiciously at the brown hat, and baby lazily opened 
 one eye to see what was going on. 
 
 ' ' Come out of that, it isn't allowed ! " commanded 
 Ben, longing to do the same thing, but mindful of the 
 proprieties and his own dignity. 
 
 Bab reluctantly tore herself away to find consolation 
 in watching the young lions, who looked so like big 
 l^uppies, and the tigers washing their faces just as puss 
 did. 
 
 " If I stroked 'em, wouldn't they purr?" she asked, 
 bent on enjoying herself, while Ben held her skiits lest 
 she should tiy the ex|jeriment. 
 
 " You 'd better not go to patting them, or you '11 get 
 your hands clawed up. Tigers do purr like fun when 
 they are happy, but these fellers never are, and you '11 
 only see 'em spit and snarl," said Ben, leading the way 
 to the humpy camels, who were peacefully chewing their 
 cud and longing for the desert, with a dreamy, far-away 
 look in their mournful eyes. 
 
 Here, leaning on the rope, and scientifically biting a 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST. 149 
 
 straw while he talked, Ben played showman to his 
 heart's content till the neigh of a horse from the circus 
 tent beyond reminded him of the joys to come. 
 
 '■ We 'd better hurry along and get good seats before 
 folks begin to crowd. I want to sit near the curtain 
 and see if any of Smithers's lot are 'round." 
 
 '•I ain't going way off there ; you can't see half so 
 well, and that big drum makes such a noise you can't 
 hear yourself think," said Sam, who had rejoined 
 them. 
 
 So they settled in good places where they could see 
 and hear all that went on in the ring and still catch 
 glimpses of white horses, bright colors, and the ghtter 
 of hebnets beyond the dingy red curtains. Ben treated 
 Bab to peanuts and pop-corn like an indulgent parent, 
 and she murmured protestations of undoing gratitude 
 with her mouth full, as she sat blissfully between him 
 and the congenial Billy. 
 
 Sancho, meantime, had been much excited by the 
 familiar sights and sounds, and now was greatly exer- 
 cised in his doggish mind at the unusual proceeding of 
 his master ; for he was sure that they ought to be within 
 there, putting on their costumes, ready to take theii 
 turn. He looked anxiously at Ben, sniffed disdainfully 
 at the strap as if to remind him that a scarlet ribbon 
 ought to take its place, and poked peanut shells about 
 with his paw as if searching for the letters with which 
 to spell his famous name. 
 
 " I know, old boy, I know ; but it can't be done. 
 We 've quit the business and must just look on. No 
 larks for us this time, Sanch, so keep quiet and behave," 
 whispered Ben, tucking the dog awav under the seat 
 
150 UNDER THh LILACS. 
 
 with a sympathetic cuddle of the curly head that peeped 
 out from between his feet. 
 
 " He wants to go and cut up, don't he?" said Billy, 
 '' and so do you, I guess. Wish you were going to. 
 Wouldn't it be fun to see Ben showing off in there ? " 
 
 " I 'd be afraid to have him go up on a pile of ele- 
 phants and jump through hoops like these folks,*' an- 
 swered Bab, poring over her pictured play-biU with 
 unabated relish. 
 
 '' Done it a hundred times, and I 'd just like to show 
 you what I can do. They don't seem to have any boys 
 in this lot ; shouldn't wonder if they 'd take me if I 
 asked 'em," said Ben, moving uneasily on his seat and 
 casting wistful glances toward the inner tent where he 
 knew he would feel more at home than in his present 
 place. 
 
 '' I heard some men say that it 's against tlie law to 
 have small boys now ; it 's so dangerous and not good 
 for them, this kind of thing. If that 's so, you're done 
 for, Ben," observed Sam, witn his most grown-up air, 
 remembering Ben's remarks on " fat boys." 
 
 *' Don't beheve a word of it, and Sanch and I could 
 go this minute and get taken on, I 'U bet. We are a 
 valuable couple, and I could prove it if I chose to," 
 began Ben, getting excited and boastful. 
 
 "Oh, see, they 're coming! — gold carriages and 
 lovely horses, and flags and elephants, and every thing ! " 
 cried Bab, giving a clutch at Ben's arm as the opening 
 procession appeared headed by the band, tooting and 
 banofing till their faces were as red as their uniforms. 
 
 Round and round they went tiU every one had seen 
 their fiU, then the riders alone were left caracoling about 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST. 151 
 
 the ring with feathers flying, horses prancing, and per- 
 formers looking as tired and indifferent as if they would 
 all like to go to sleep then and there. 
 
 " How splendid ! " sighed Bab, as they went dashing 
 out, to tumble oflT almost before the horses stopped. 
 
 " That 's nothing ! You wait till you see the bare-back 
 riding and the ' acrobatic exercises,' " said Ben, quot- 
 ing from the play-bill, with the air of one who knew aU 
 about the feats to come, and could never be surprised 
 any more. 
 
 "What are ' crowbackic exercises?'" asked Billy, 
 thirsting for information. 
 
 "Leaping and climbing and tumbling; you'll see 
 — George ! what a stunning horse ! " and Ben forgot 
 every thing else to feast his eyes on the handsome 
 creature who now came pacing in to dance, upset and 
 replace chairs, kneel, bow, and perform many wonder- 
 ful or graceful feats, ending with a swift gallop while 
 the rider sat in a chair on its back fanning himself, with 
 his legs crossed, as comfortably as you please. 
 
 "That, now, is something like," and Ben's eyes 
 shone with admiration and envy as the pair vanished, 
 and the pink and silver acrobats came leaping into the 
 ring. 
 
 The boys were especially interested in this part, and 
 well they might be ; for strength and agility are manlj 
 attributes which lads appreciate, and these lively fellows 
 flew about like India-rubber balls, each trying to 017 tdo 
 the other, till the leader of the acrobats capped the 
 climax by turning a double somersault over five ele- 
 phants standing side by side. 
 
 "There, sir, how's that for a jump?" asked Ben, 
 
lOl' UNDER THE LILACS 
 
 rubbing his hands with satisfaction as his friends clapped 
 till their palms tingled. 
 
 *' We '11 rig up a spring-board and try it," said Billy, 
 fired with emulation. 
 
 * ' Wliere '11 3- ou get your elephants ? " asked Sam, 
 scornfully, for gymnastics were not in his line. 
 
 "You'll do for one," retorted Ben, and Billy and 
 Bab joined in his laugh so heartily that a rough-looking 
 man who sat behind them, hearing all they said, i3ro- 
 nounced them a "jolly set," and kept his eye on Sancho, 
 who now showed signs of insubordination. 
 
 " Hullo, that wasn't on the bill ! " cried Ben, as a 
 parti-colored clown came in, followed by half a dozen 
 dogs. 
 
 "I'm so glad; now Sancho will like it. There's a 
 poodle that might be his ownty donty brother — the 
 one with the blue ribbon," said Bab, beaming with de- 
 hght as the dogs took their seats in the chairs arranged 
 for them. 
 
 Sancho did like it only too well, for he scrambled out 
 from under the seat in a great hurry to go and greet Ms 
 friends ; and, being sharply checked, sat up and begged 
 so piteously that Ben found it very hard to refuse and 
 order him down. He subsided for a moment, but 
 when the black spaniel, who acted the canine clown, 
 did something funny and was applauded, Sancho made 
 a dart as if bent on leaping into the ring to outdo his 
 rival, and " Ben was forced to box his ears and put his 
 feet on the poor beast, fearing he would be ordered out 
 if he made any disturbance. 
 
 Too well trained to rebel again, Sancho lay meditating 
 on his wi'ongs till the dog act was over, carefully ab- 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST. 153 
 
 staining from any further sign of interest in their tricks, 
 and only giving a sidelong glance at the two little poo- 
 dles who came out of a basket to run up and down stairs 
 on theii* fore paws, dance jigs on their hind legs, and 
 play -various pretty pranks to the gi-eat delight of all the 
 sbildren in the audience. K ever a dog expressed by 
 look and attitude, ^' Pooh ! I could do much better than 
 that, and astonish you all, if I were only allowed to," 
 that dog was Sancho, as he curled himself up and af- 
 fected to turn his back on an unappreciative world. 
 
 "It's too bad, when he knows more than all those 
 chaps put together. I 'd give any thing if I could show 
 him off as I used to. Folks always like it, and I was 
 ever so proud of him. He 's mad now because I had to 
 cuff him, and won't take any notice of me till I make 
 up," said Ben, regretfully ejmg his offended friend, 
 but not daring to beg pardon yet. 
 
 More riding followed, and Bab was kept in a breath- 
 less state by the marvellous agility and skill of the gauzy 
 lady who drove four horses at once, leaped through 
 hoops, over banners and bars, sprang off' and on at full 
 speed, and seemed to enjoy it all so much it was impos- 
 sible to beheve that there could be any danger or exer- 
 tion in it. Then two girls flew about on the trapeze, 
 and walked on a tight rope, causing Bab to feel that she 
 had at last found her sphere ; for, young as she was, her 
 mother often said, — 
 
 " I really don't know what this child is fit for, except 
 mischief, like a monkey." 
 
 "I'll fix the clothes-line when I get home, and show 
 Ma how nice it is. Then, may be, she'U let me weal 
 red and gold trousers, and climb round like these gtrls,*^ 
 
154 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 thought the busy little brain, much excited by all it saw 
 on that memorable day. 
 
 Nothing short of a pyramid of elephants with a ght' 
 taring gentleman in a tiu'ban and top boots on the sum- 
 mit would have made her forget this new and charming 
 plan. But that astonishing spectacle, and the prospect 
 of a cage of Bengal tigers with a man among them, in 
 imminent danger of being eaten before her eyes, en- 
 tirely absorbed her thoughts till, just as the big animals 
 went limibering out, a peal of thunder caused consid- 
 erable commotion in the audience. Men on the highest 
 seats popped their heads through the openings in the 
 tent-cover and reported that a heavy shower was coming 
 up. Anxious mothers began to collect their flocks of 
 children as hens do their chickens at sunset ; timid peo* 
 pie told cheerful stories of tents blown over in gales, 
 cages upset and wild beasts let loose. Many left in 
 naste, and the performers hurried to finish as soon as 
 possible. 
 
 "I'm going now before the crowd comes, so I can 
 get a lift home. I see two or three folks I know, so 
 I'm off;" and, climbing hastily down, Sam vanished 
 without fuiiher ceremony. 
 
 "Better wait till the shower is over. We can go 
 and see the animals again, and get home all dry, just 
 as well as not," obsei^ed Ben, encouragingly, as Billy 
 looked anxiously at the billowing canvas over his head, 
 the swaying posts before him, and heard the quick pat- 
 ter of drops outside, not to mention the melancholy 
 roar of the hon which sounded rather awful through the 
 sudden gloom which filled the strange place. 
 
 "I wouldn't miss the tigers for any thing. See, 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST. 155 
 
 tbey are pulling in the cart now, and the shiny man is 
 all ready with his gun. Will he shoot any of them, 
 Ben?" asked Bab, nestling nearer with a little shiver 
 of apprehension, for the sharp crack of a rifle startled 
 her more than the loudest thunder-clap she ever heard. 
 
 "Bless you, no, child; it*s only powder to make 
 noise and scare 'em. I wouldn't like to be in his place 
 though ; father says you can never trust tigers as you 
 can hons, no matter how tame they are. Sly fellers, 
 like cats, and when they scratch it's no joke, I teU 
 you," answered Ben, with a knowing wag of the head, 
 as the sides of the cage rattled down, and the poor, 
 fierce creatures were seen leaping and snarling as if 
 they resented this display of their captivity. 
 
 Bab curled up her feet and winked fast with excite 
 ment as she watched the " shiny man" fondle the great 
 cats, lie down among them, pull open their red mouths, 
 and make them leap over him or crouch at his feet as 
 he snapped the long whip. When he fired the gun and 
 they all fell as if dead, she with difficulty suppressed a 
 small scream and clapped her hands over her ears ; but 
 poor Billy never minded it a bit, for he was pale and 
 quaking with the fear of " heaven's artillery" thunder- 
 ing over head, and as a bright flash of hghtning seemed 
 to run down the tall tent-poles he hid his eyes and 
 wished with all his heart that he was safe with mother. 
 
 '"Fraid of thunder, BiU?" asked Ben, trying to 
 speak stoutly, while a sense of his own responsibilities 
 began to worry him, for how was Bab to be got home 
 in such a pouring rain? 
 
 " It makes me sick ; always did. Wish I hadn't 
 come," sighed Billy, feeling, all too lato, that lemonade 
 
156 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 and " lozengers" were not the fittest food for man, oi 
 a stifling tent the best place to be in on a hot July day, 
 especially in a thunder-stonn. 
 
 ' ' I didn't ask you to come ; you asked me ; so i\ 
 isn't my fault," said Ben, rather gruffly, as people 
 crowded by without pausing to hear the comic song the 
 clown was singing in spite of the confusion. 
 
 *' Oh, I'm 50 tired," groaned Bab, getting up with a 
 long stretch of arms and legs. 
 
 "You'll be tireder before you get home, I guess. 
 Nobody asked you to come, any way ; " and Ben gazed 
 dolefully round him, wishing he could see a famihar face 
 or find a wiser head than his own to help him out of tiie 
 scrape he was in. 
 
 "I said I wouldn't be a bother, and I won't. I'll 
 walk right home this minute. I ain't afraid of thunder, 
 and the rain won't hurt these old clothes. Come along," 
 cried Bab, bravely, bent on keeping her word, though 
 it looked much harder after the fim was ail over than 
 before. 
 
 "My head aches like fury. Don't I wish old Jack 
 was here to take me back," said Billy, following his 
 companions in misfortune with sudden energy, as a 
 louder peal than before rolled overhead. 
 
 "You might as weU wish for Lita and the covered 
 wagon while you are about it, then we could all 
 ride," answered Ben, leading the way to the outer 
 tent, where many people were lingering in hopes of 
 fair weather. 
 
 "Why, Billy Barton, how in the world did you get 
 here ? " cried a surprised voice as the crook of a cane 
 caught the boy by the collar and jerked him face to face 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST. 157 
 
 With a young fanner, who was pushing along, followed 
 by his wife and two or three children. 
 
 "Oh, Uncle Eben, I'm so glad you found me! I 
 walked over, and it*s raining, and I don't feel well. 
 liCt me go with you, can't I?" asked Billy, casting 
 himself and all his woes upon the strong arm that had 
 laid hold of him. 
 
 " Don't see what your mother was about to let you 
 come so far alone, and you just over scarlet fever. "We 
 are as full as ever we can be, but we'll tuck you ia 
 somehow," said the pleasant-faced woman, bundling up 
 her baby, and bidding the two little lads " keep close 
 to father." 
 
 "I didn't come alone. Sam got a ride, and can't 
 you tuck Ben and Bab in too? They ain't very big, 
 either of them," whispered Billy, anxious to serve his 
 friends now that he was provided for himself. 
 
 *' Can't do it, anyway. Got to pick up mother at 
 the corner, and that will be all I can carry. It 's lifting 
 a little ; hurry along, Lizzie, and let us get out of this 
 as quick as possible," said Uncle Eben, impatiently; 
 for going to a circus with a young family is not an easy 
 task, as every one knows who has ever tried it. 
 
 " Ben, I'm real soriy there isn't room for you. 1*11 
 tell Bab's mother where she is, and may be some one 
 win come for you," said Billy, hurriedly, as he tore 
 himself away, feeling rather mean to desert the others, 
 though he could be of no use. 
 
 *' Cut away, and don't mind us. I'm all rignt, and 
 Bab must do the best she can," was all Ben had time 
 to answer before his comrade was hustled away by the 
 crowd pressing round the entrance with much clashing 
 
158 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 of umbrellas and scrambling of boys and men, who 
 rather enjoj^ed the flurry. 
 
 " Xo use for us to get knocked about in that scrim- 
 mage. We '11 wait a minute and then go out easy. It's 
 a regular rouser, and you '11 be as wet as a sop before 
 we get home. Hope 3'ou'll like that?" added Ben, 
 looking out at the heavy rain pouring down as if it 
 never meant to stop. 
 
 "Don't care a bit," said Bab, swinging on one of 
 the ropes with a happy-go-lucky air, for her spirits were 
 not extinguished yet, and she was bound to enjoy this 
 exciting hohday to the very end. "I like circuses so 
 much ! I wish I hved here all the time, and slept in a 
 wagon, as you did, and had these dear little colties to 
 play with." 
 
 "It wouldn't be fun if you didn't have any folks 
 to take care of you," began Ben, thoughtfully looking 
 about the familiar place where the men were now feed- 
 ing the animals, setting their refreshment tables, or 
 lounging on the hay to get such rest as they could be- 
 fore the evening entertainment. Suddenly he started, 
 gave a long look, then turned to Bab, and thrusting 
 Sancho's strap into her hand, said, hastily: "I see a 
 fellow I used to know. May be he can tell me some- 
 thing about father. Don't you stir till I come back." 
 
 Then he was off like a shot, and Bab saw him run 
 after a man with a bucket who had been watering the 
 zebra. Sancho tried to follow, but was checked with 
 an impatient, — 
 
 " No, you can't go ! What a plague you are, tagging 
 around when people don't want you." 
 
 Sancho might have answered, " So are you," but, 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST, 169 
 
 being a gentlemanly dog, he sat down with a resigned 
 expression to watch the little colts, who were now awake 
 and seemed ready for a game of bo-peep behind their 
 mammas. Bab enjoyed their funny little frisks so much 
 that she tied the wearisome strap to a post, and crept 
 under the rope to pet the tiny mouse-colored one who 
 eame and talked to her with baby whinnies and confid 
 ing glances of its soft, dark eyes. 
 
 Oh, luckless Bab ! why did you turn your back ? Oh, 
 too accomphshed Sancho ! why did you neatly untie that 
 knot and trot away to confer with the disreputable bull 
 dog who stood in the entrance beckoning with friendly 
 wavings of an abbreviated tail? Oh, much afflicted 
 Ben ! why did you delay till it was too late to save 
 your pet from the rough man who set his foot upon the 
 traihng strap, and led poor Sanch quickly out of sight 
 among the crowd. 
 
 *' It was Bascum, but he didn't know any thmg. 
 Why, Where's Sanch?" said Ben, returning. 
 
 A breathless voice made Bab turn to see Ben looking 
 about him with as much alarm in his hot face as if the 
 dog had been a two years' child. 
 
 "I tied him — he's here somewhere — with the 
 ponies," stammered Bab, in sudden dismay, for no sign 
 of a dog appeared as her eyes roved wildly to and fro. 
 
 Ben whistled, called and searched in vain, till one of 
 the lounging men said, lazily, — 
 
 *^ If you are looking after the big poodle you *d better 
 go outside ; I saw him trotting off with another dog." 
 
 Away rushed Ben, with Bab following, regardless of 
 the ram, for both felt that a great misfoi-tune had be* 
 fallen them. But, long before this, Sancho had vanished, 
 
160 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 and no one minded Ms indignant howls as he was driven 
 off in a covered cart. 
 
 '* If he is lost I'll never forgive you ; never, never^ 
 never ! " and Ben found it impossible to resist giving 
 Bab several hard shakes, which made her yellow braids 
 fly up and down hke pump handles. 
 
 '' I 'm dreadful sorry. He '11 come back — you said 
 he always did," pleaded Bab, quite crushed by her own 
 afflictions, and rather scared to see Ben look so fierce, 
 for he seldom lost his temper or was rough with the 
 little girls. 
 
 " K he doesn't come back, don't you speak to me 
 for a year. Now, I'm going home." And, feehng 
 that words were powerless to express his emotions, Ben 
 walked away, looking as grim as a small boy could. 
 
 A more unhappy httle lass is seldom to be found than 
 Bab was, as she pattered after him, splashing recklessly 
 through the puddles, and getting as wet and muddy as 
 possible, as a sort of penance for her sins. For a mile 
 or two she trudged stoutly along, while Ben marched 
 before in solemn silence, which soon became both im- 
 pressive and oppressive because so unusual, and such 
 a proof of his deep displeasure. Penitent Bab longed 
 for just one word, one sign of relenting ; and when none 
 came, she began to wonder how she could possibly bear 
 it if he kept his dreadful threat and did not speak to 
 her for a whole year. 
 
 But presently her own discomfort absorbed her, for 
 her feet were wet and cold as well as very tired ; pop- 
 corn and peanuts were not particularly nourishing food, 
 and hunger made her feel famt ; excitement was a new 
 thing, and now that it was over she longed to lie down 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST 161 
 
 and go to sleep ; then the long walk with a circus at the 
 end seemed a very different affair from the homeward 
 trip with a distracted mother awaiting her. The shower 
 had subsided into a dreary drizzle, a chilly east wind 
 blew up, the hilly road seemed to lengthen before the 
 weary feet, and the mute, blue flannel figure going on 
 so fast with never a look or sound, added the last touch 
 to Bab's remorseM anguish. 
 
 Wagons passed, but all were full, and no one offered 
 a vide. Men and boys went by with rough jokes on the 
 f<>rlorn pair, for rain soon made them look like young 
 tramps. But there was no brave Sancho to resent the 
 impei-tinence, and this fact was sadly brought to both 
 their minds by the appearance of a great Newfoundland 
 dog who came trotting after a carriage. The good 
 creature stopped to say a friendly word in his dumb 
 fashion, looking up at Bab with benevolent eyes, and 
 poking his nose into Ben's hand before he bounded away 
 with his plumy tail curled over his back. 
 
 Ben started as the cold nose touched his fingers, gave 
 the soft head a lingering pat, and watched the dog out 
 of sight through a thicker mist than any the rain made. 
 But Bab broke down ; for the wistful look of the crea- 
 ture's eyes reminded her of lost Sancho, and she sobbed 
 quietly as she glanced back longing to see the dear old 
 feUow jogging along in the rear. 
 
 Ben heard the piteous sound and took a sly peep ovef 
 his shoulder, seeing such a mournful spectacle that he 
 felt appeased, saying to himself as if to excuse his late 
 sternness, — 
 
 '' She is a naughty girl, but I guess she is about sorry 
 enough now. When we get to that sign-post T 'U speab 
 
162 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 to her, only I won't forgive her till Sanch comes 
 back." 
 
 But he was better than his word ; for, just before the 
 post was reached, Bab, blinded by tears, tripped over 
 the root of a tree, and, rolling down the bank, landed 
 m a bed of wet nettles. Ben had her out in a jiffy, and 
 vainly tried to comfort her ; but she was past any con- 
 solation he could offer, and roared dismally as she 
 wrung her tingling hands, with great drops running 
 over her cheeks almost as fast as the muddy little rills 
 ran down the road. 
 
 " Oh dear, oh dear ! I 'm all stinged up, and I want 
 my supper ; and my feet ache, and I 'm cold, and every 
 thing is so horrid ! " wailed the poor child \jmg on the 
 grass, such a miserable little wet bunch that the sternest 
 parent would have melted at the sight. 
 
 "Don't cry so, Babby ; I was real cross, and I'm 
 sorry. I'll forgive you right away now, and never 
 shake you any more," cried Ben, so full of pity for her 
 tribulations that he forgot his own, like a generous little 
 man. 
 
 " Shake me again, if you want to ; I know I was 
 very bad to tag and lose Sanch. I never will any more, 
 and I 'm so sorry, I don't know what to do," answered 
 Bab, completely bowed down by this magnanimity. 
 
 " Never mind ; you just wipe up your face and come 
 along, and we 'U tell Ma all about it, and she '11 fix us 
 as nice as can be. I shouldn't wonder if Sanch got 
 home now before we did," said Ben, cheering himself 
 as well as her by the fond hope. 
 
 " I don't believe / ever shaU. I 'm so tired my legs 
 won't go, and the water in my boots makes them feel 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST, 165 
 
 dreadfully. I wish that boy would wheel me a piece* 
 Don't you s'pose he would?" asked Bab, wearily pick- 
 ing herself up as a tall lad trundling a barrow came out 
 of a yard near by. 
 
 " Hullo, Joslyn ! " said Ben, recognizing the boy as 
 one of the "hill fellows" who came to town Saturday 
 nights for play or business. 
 
 " Hullo, Brown ! " responded the other, arresting his 
 squeaking progress with signs of surprise at the moist 
 tableau before him. 
 
 " Where goin' ? '* asked Ben witn masculine brevity. 
 
 " Got to carry this home, hang the old thing ! " 
 
 "Whereto?" 
 
 " Batchelor's, down yonder," and the boy pointed to 
 a farm-house at the foot of the next hill. 
 
 " Goin' that way, take it right along." 
 
 " What for?" questioned the prudent youth, distrust- 
 ing such unusual neighborhness. 
 
 "She's tired, wants a ride; I'll leave it all right, 
 true as I live and breathe," explained Ben, half 
 ashamed yet anxious to get his little responsibility 
 home as soon as possible, for mishaps seemed to 
 thicken. 
 
 " Ho, you couldn't cart her all that way I she's most 
 as heavj as a bag of meal," jeered the taller lad, amused 
 at the proposition. 
 
 " I 'm stronger than most fellers of my size. Try, 
 if I ain't," and Ben squared off in such scientific style 
 that Joslyn responded with sudden amiabihty, — 
 
 " All right, let 's see you do it." 
 
 Bab huddled into her new equipage without the least 
 fear, and Ben trundled her off at a good pace, while th@ 
 
164 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 boy retired to the shelter of a barn to watch their prog 
 ress, glad to be rid of an irksome errand. 
 
 At first, all went well, for the way was down hill, and 
 the wheel squeaked briskly round and round ; Bat 
 smiled gratefully upon her bearer, and Ben " went in on 
 his muscle with a will," as he exi:)ressed it,- But pres- 
 ently the road grew sandy, began to ascend, and the 
 load seemed to gi'ow heavier with every step. 
 
 " I '11 get out now; It 's real nice, but I guess I am 
 too heav}^," said Bab, as the face before her got redder 
 and redder, and the breath began to come in puffs. 
 
 "Sit still. He said I couldn't. I'm not going to 
 give in with him looking on," panted Ben, and he pushed 
 gallantly up the rise, over the grassy lawn to the side 
 gate of the Batchelors' door-yard, with his head down, 
 teeth set, and every muscle of his slender body braced 
 to the task. 
 
 " Did ever ye see the like of that now? Ah, ha I 
 
 * The streets were so wide, and the lanes were so narry, 
 He brought his wife home on a little wheelbarry.* " 
 
 sung a voice with an accent which made Ben drop his 
 load and push back his hat, to see Pat's red head looking 
 over the fence. 
 
 To have his enemy behold him then and there was 
 the last bitter drop in poor Ben's cup of humiliation. 
 A shrill approving whistle from the hiE was some com- 
 fort, however, and gave him spirit to help Bab out with 
 composure, though his hands were blistered and he had 
 hardly breath enough to issue the command, — 
 " Go along home, and don't mind him.'* 
 " Nice chUder, ye are, runnin' off this way, settin 
 
SOMEBODY GETS LOST. 165 
 
 the women disthracted, and me wastin' me time comm 
 after ye when I 'd be milkin' airly so 1 'd get a bit of 
 pleasure the day," gi'umbled Pat, coming up to untie 
 the Duke, whose Roman nose Ben had akeady recog- 
 nized, as well as the roomy chaise standing before the 
 loor. 
 
 **Did Billy teU you about us? "asked Bab, gladly 
 following toward this welcome refuge. 
 
 '' Faith he did, and the Squire sint me to fetch ye 
 home quiet and aisy. When ye found me, I 'd jist 
 stopped here to borry a light for me pipe. Up wid ye, 
 b'y, and not be wastin' me time sti-amashin' after a 
 spalpeen that I 'd like to lay me whip over," said Pat, 
 gruffly, as Ben came along, having left the barrow in 
 the shed. 
 
 *' Don't you wish you could? You needn't wait for 
 me ; I '11 come when I 'm ready," answered Ben, dodg- 
 ing round the chaise, bound not to mind Pat, if he 
 spent the night by the road- side in consequence. 
 
 " Bedad^ and I won't then. It's lively je are; but 
 four legs is better than two, as ye '11 find this night, me 
 young man." 
 
 With that he whipped up and was off before Bab 
 could say a word to persuade Ben to humble himself 
 for the sake of a ride. She lamented and Pat chuckled, 
 "both forgetting what an agile monkey the boy was, and 
 RS neither looked back, they were unaware that Master 
 Ben was hanging on behind among the straps and 
 springs, making derisive grimaces at his imconscioua 
 foe through the httle glass in the leathern back. 
 
 At the lodge gate Ben jumped down to run before 
 with whoops of naughty satisfaction, which brought the 
 
166 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 anxious waiters to the door in a flock ; so Pat could 
 only shake his fist at the exulting little rascal as he 
 drove away, leaving the wanderers to be welcomed as 
 warmly as if they were a pair of model children. 
 
 Mrs. Moss had not been very much troubled after all ; 
 for Cy had told her that Bab went after Ben, and Billy 
 had lately reported her safe arrival among them, so, 
 mother-like, she fed, dried, and warmed the i-unaways, 
 before she scolded them. 
 
 Even then, the lecture was a mild one, for when they 
 tried to tell the adventures which to them seemed so ex- 
 citing, not to say tragical, the effect astonished them 
 immensely, as their audience went into gales of laugh- 
 ter, especially at the wheelbarrow episode, which Bab 
 insisted on telling, with grateful minuteness, to Ben's 
 confusion. Thorny shouted, and even tender-heaited 
 Betty forgot her tears over the lost dog to join in the 
 familiar melody when Bab mimicked Pat's quotation 
 from Mother Goose. 
 
 " We must not laugh any more, or theso naughty 
 children will think they have done something very 
 clever in running away," said Miss Celia, when the fun 
 subsided, addiQg soberly, "I am displeased, but I will 
 say nothing, for I think Ben is already punished 
 enough." 
 
 ''Guess I am," muttered Ben, with a choke in his 
 yoice as he glanced toward the empty mat where a dear 
 curly bunch used to lie with a bright eye twinkling oat 
 of the middle of it. 
 
CHAPTER Xy. 
 BElSnS RIDE, 
 
 GREAT was the mourning for Sancho, because hig 
 talents and virtues made him universally admired 
 and beloved. Miss Celia advertised, Thorny offered 
 rewards, and even surly Pat kept a sharp look-out for 
 poodle dogs when he went to market ; but no Sancho or 
 any trace of him appeared. Ben was inconsolable, and 
 sternly said it served Bab right when the c?(?^-wood 
 poison affected both face and hands. Poor Bab thought 
 so, too, and dared ask no sympathy from him, though 
 Thorny eagerly prescribed plantain leaves, and Betty 
 kept her supplied with an endless succession of them 
 steeped in cream and pitying tears. This treatment 
 was so successful that the patient soon took her place 
 in society as well as ever, but for Ben's affliction there 
 was no cure, and the boy really suffered in his spirits. 
 
 '' I don't think it 's fair that I should have so much 
 trouble, — first losing father and then Sanch. K it 
 wasn't for Lita and Miss CeHa, I don't believe I could 
 stand it," he said, one day, in a fit of despair, about a 
 week after the sad event. 
 
 " Oh, come now, don't give up so, old fellow. We'll 
 Snd him if he 's alive, and if he isn't I '11 try and get 
 you another as good," answered Thorny, with a friendly 
 
168 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 slap on the shoulder, as Ben sat disconsolately among 
 the beans he had been hoeing. 
 
 " As if there ever could be another half as good ! " 
 cried Ben, indignant at the idea ; " or as if I 'd ever try 
 to fill his place with the best and biggest dog that ever 
 wagged a tail ! No, sir, there 's only one Sanch in all 
 the world, and if I can't have him I '11 never have a 
 dog again." 
 
 ' ' Try some other sort of pet, then. You may have 
 any of mine you hke. Have the peacocks ; do now," 
 urged Thorny, full of boyish sympathy and good-will. 
 
 " They are dreadful pretty, but I don't seem to care 
 about 'em, thank you," replied the mourner. 
 
 " Have the rabbits, all of them," which was a hand- 
 some offer on Thorny's part, for there were a dozen at 
 least. 
 
 *'They don't love a fellow as a dog does; all they 
 care for is stuff to eat and dirt to burrow in. I 'm sick 
 of rabbits." And well he might be, for he had had the 
 charge of them ever since they came, and any boy who 
 ha? ever kept bunnies knows what a care they are. 
 
 "So am I! Guess we'll have an auction and sell 
 out. Would Jack be a comfort to you? If he will, 
 you may have him. I 'm so well now, I can walk, or 
 ride any thing," added Thorny, in a burst of generosity. 
 
 " Jack couldn't be with me alwaj^s, as Sanch was, 
 and I couldn't keep him if I had him." 
 
 Ben tried to be gi^ateful, but nothing short of Lita 
 would have healed his wounded heart, and she was not 
 Thorny's to give, or he would probably have offered her 
 to his afflicted friend. ■ 
 
 " Well, no, you couldn't take Jack to bed with you« 
 
BEJSrS RIDE. 169 
 
 or keep him up in your room, and I 'm afraid he would 
 never learn to do any thing clever. I do wish I had 
 something you wanted, I 'd so love to give it to you." 
 
 He spoke so heartily and was so kind that Ben looked 
 np, feehng that he had given him one of the sweetest 
 things in the world — friendship ; he wanted to tell him 
 so, but did not know how to do it, so caught up his hoe 
 and fell to work, saying, in a tone Thorny understood 
 better than words, — 
 
 "You are real good to me — never mind, I won't 
 worry about it ; only it seems extra hard coming so soon 
 afterthe other — " 
 
 He stopped there, and a bright drop fell on the bean 
 leaves, to shine like dew till Ben saw clearly enough to 
 bury it out of sight in a great hurry. 
 
 "By Jove! I'U find that dog, if he is out of the 
 ground. Keep your spirits up, my lad, and we '11 have 
 the dear old fellow back yet." 
 
 With which cheering prophecj^ Thorny went off to rack 
 his brains as to what could be done about the matter. 
 
 Half an hour afterward, the sound of a hand-organ in 
 the avenue roused him from the brown study into which 
 he had fallen as he lay on the newly mown grass of the 
 lawn. Peeping over the waU, Thorny reconnoitred, 
 and, finding the organ a good one, the man a pleasant- 
 faced Itahan, and the monkey a hvely animal, he ordered 
 them all in, as a dehcate attention to Ben, for music 
 and monkey together might suggest soothing memories 
 of the past, and so be a comfort. 
 
 In they came by way of the Lodge, escorted by Bab 
 and Betty, full of glee, for hand-organs were rare in 
 those parts, and the children delighted in them. Smilr 
 8 
 
170 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Ing till his white teeth shone and his black eyes sparkled, 
 the man played away while the monkey made his pathetic 
 little bows, and picked up the pennies Thorny thi-ew him. 
 
 *' It is warm, and you look tired. Sit down and I'll 
 get you some dinner," said the young master, pointing 
 lo the seat which now stood near the great gate. 
 
 With thanks in broken English the man gladly obeyed, 
 and Ben begged to be allowed to make Jacko equally 
 comfortable, explaining that he knew all about monkeys 
 and what they liked. So the poor thing was freed from 
 his cocked hat and uniform, fed with bread and milk, 
 and allowed to curl himself up in the cool grass for a 
 nap, looking so like a tired httle old man in a fur coat 
 that the childi'en were never weary of watching him. 
 
 Meantime, Miss Celia had come out, and was talking 
 Italian to Giacomo in a way that delighted his homesick 
 heart. She had been to Naples, and could understand 
 his longing for the lovely city of his birth, so they had 
 a little chat in the language which is all music, and the 
 good fellow was so grateful that he played for the 
 children to dance till they were glad to stop, lingering 
 afterward as if he hated to set out again upon his lonely, 
 dusty walk. 
 
 " I 'd rather like to tramp round with him for a week 
 or so. Could make enough to hve on as easy as not, if 
 I only had Sanch to show off," said Ben, as he was 
 coaxing Jacko into the suit which he detested. 
 
 " You go wid me, yes?" asked the man, nodding and 
 smiling, well pleased at the prospect of company, for 
 his quick eye and what the boys let fall in their talk 
 showed him that Ben was not one of them. 
 
 " If I had my dog I 'd love to," and with sad eager- 
 
BEN'S RIDB. 171 
 
 ness Ben told the tale of his loss, for the thought of It 
 was never long out of his mind. 
 
 " I tink I see di'oll dog like he, way off in New York. 
 He do leetle trick wid letter, and dance, and go on he 
 head, and many tings to make laugh," said the man, 
 when he had listened to a list of Sanch's beauties and 
 accomplishments . 
 
 "Who had him?" asked Thorny, full of interest at 
 once. 
 
 *'A man I not know. Cross fellow what beat him 
 when he do letters bad." 
 
 '' Did he spell his name?" cried Ben, breathlessly. 
 
 "No; that for why man beat him. He name Gen- 
 erale, and he go spell Sancho all times, and cry whea 
 whip faU on him. Ha ! yes ! that name true one ; not 
 Generale?" and the man nodded, waved his hands, 
 and showed his teeth, almost as much excited as the 
 boys. 
 
 "It's Sanch! let's go and get him now, right off!" 
 cried Ben, in a fever to be gone. 
 
 " A hundred miles away, and no clew but this man's 
 story? We must wait a httle, Ben, and be sure before 
 we set out," said Miss Ceha, ready to do almost any 
 thing, but not so certain as the boys. " What sort of 
 a dog was it? A large, curly, white poodle, with & 
 queer tail?" she asked of Giacomo. 
 
 " No, Signorina mia, he no curly, no wite ; he black, 
 smooth dog, littel tail, small, so ; " and the man held 
 up one brown finger with a gesture which suggested a 
 short, wagging tail. 
 
 "There, you see how mistaken we were. Dogs are 
 often named Sancho, especially Spanish poodles ; for 
 
r 
 
 172 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 the original Sancho was a Spaniard, you know, TliIs 
 dog is not ours, and I'm so sorry." 
 
 The boys' faces Lad fallen dismally as their hope was 
 destroyed ; but Ben would not give up. For him there 
 was and could be only one Sancho in the world, and 
 his quick wits suggested an explanation which no one 
 else thought of. 
 
 " It may be my dog, — they color 'em as we usevi to 
 paint over trick horses. I told you he was a valuable 
 chap, and those that stole him hide him that way, else 
 he'd be no use, don't you see? because we'd know him." 
 
 '' But the black dog had no tail," began Thorny, 
 longing to be convinced, but still doubtful. 
 
 Ben shivered as if the mere thought hurt him, as he 
 said, in a grim tone, — 
 
 " They might have cut Sanch's off." 
 
 *' Oh, no ! no ! they mustn't, — they wouldn't ! " 
 
 " How could any one be so wicked?" cried Bab and 
 Betty, horrified at the suggestion. 
 
 *' You don't know what such fellows would do to make 
 all safe, so they could use a dog to earn their living for 
 em," said Ben, with mj^sterious significance, quite for- 
 getting in his wrath that he had just proposed to get 
 his own living in that way himself. 
 
 "He no your dog? Sorry I not find him for you. 
 Addio, signorina ! Grazia, signor ! Buon giorno, buon 
 giomo ! " and, kis.'ang his hand, the Itahan shouldered 
 organ and monkey, ready to go. 
 
 Miss Celia detained him long enough to give him 
 her address, and beg him to let her know if he met 
 poor Sanch in any of his wanderings ; for such itinerant 
 showmen often cross each other's paths. Ben and 
 
BEN'S EWE. 173 
 
 Thorny walked to the school-corner with him, getting 
 more exact infonnation about the black dog and his 
 owner, for they had no intention of giving it up so 
 soon. 
 
 That very evening, Thorny wrote to a boy cousin in 
 New York, giving all the particulars of the case, and 
 begging him to hunt up the man, investigate the dog, 
 and see that the police made sm^e that every thing was 
 right. Much relieved by this performance, the boys 
 waited anxiously for a reply, and when it came found 
 little comfort in it. Cousin Horace had done his duty 
 like a man, but regretted that he could only report a 
 failure. The owner of the black poodle was a suspicious 
 character, but told a straight story, how he had bought 
 the dog from a stranger, and exhibited him with success 
 till he was stolen. Knew nothing of his history, and 
 was very sorry to lose him, for he was a remarkably 
 clever beast. 
 
 *' I told my dog-man to look about for him, but he 
 says he has probably been killed, with ever so many 
 more ; so there is an end of it, and I call it a mean 
 shame." 
 
 " Good for Horace ! I told you he 'd do it up thor- 
 oughly and see the end of it," said Thorny, as he read 
 that paragraph in the deeply interesting letter. 
 
 "• May be the end of that dog, but not of mine. I *Il 
 bet he ran away ; and if it was Sanch, he '11 come home. 
 You see if he doesn't ! " cried Ben, refusing to believe 
 that all was over. 
 
 "A hundred miles off? Oh, he couldn't find you 
 without help, smart as he is," answered Thorny, in- 
 credulously . 
 
174 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Ben looked discouraged, but Miss Celia cheered him 
 ap again by sa3'ing, — 
 
 " Yes, he could. My father had a friend who left 
 a little dog in Paris ; and the creature found her in 
 Milan, and died of fatigue next day. That was very 
 wonderful, but true ; and I 've no doubt that if Sanch 
 is alive he will come home. Let us hope so, and be 
 happy while we wait." 
 
 " We will ! " said the boys ; and day after day looked 
 for the wanderer's retui^n, kept a bone ready in the old 
 place if he should arrive at night, and shook his mat to 
 keep it soft for his weary bones when he came. But 
 weeks passed, and still no Sanch. 
 
 Something else happened, however, so absorbing 
 that he was almost forgotten for a time ; and Ben 
 found a way to repay a part of all he owed his best 
 iriend. 
 
 Miss Celia went off for a ride one afternoon, and an 
 hour afterward, as Ben sat in the porch reading, Lita 
 dashed into the yard with the reins dangling about her 
 legs, the saddle turned round, and one side covered 
 with black mud, showing that she had been down. For 
 a minute, Ben's heart stood still ; then he flung away 
 his book, ran to the horse, and saw at once by her 
 hea^^ng flanks, dilated nostrils, and wet coat, that she 
 must have come a long way and at full speed. 
 
 " She has had a fall, but isn't hm^t or frightened," 
 thought the boy, as the pretty creatm^e rubbed her nose 
 against his shoulder, pawed the gi^ound, and champed 
 her bit, as if she tried to tell him all about the disaster, 
 whatever it was. 
 
 "Lita, Where's Miss Ceha?" he asked, looking 
 
BEN'b RIDE. 176 
 
 gtraiglit into the intelligent eyes, which were troubled 
 but not wild. 
 
 Lita threw up her head, and neighed loud and clear, 
 as if she called her mistress ; and, turning, would have 
 gone again if Ben had not caught the reins and held 
 her. 
 
 *'A11 right, we'll find her;" and, pulling off the 
 broken saddle, kicking away his shoes, and ramming 
 his hat firmly on, Ben was up like a flash, tingling all 
 over with a sense of power as he felt the bare back 
 between his knees, and caught the roll of Lita's eye as 
 she looked round with an air of satisfaction. 
 
 " Hi, there ! Mrs. Moss ! Something has happened 
 to Miss Celia, and I'm going to find her. Thorny is 
 asleep ; tell him easy, and I '11 come back as soon as 
 I can ! " 
 
 Then, giving Lita her head, he was off before the 
 startled woman had time to do more than wiing her 
 hands and cry out, — 
 
 " Go for the Squire ! Oh, what shaU we do? " 
 
 As if she knew exactly what was wanted of her, Lita 
 went back the way she had come, as Ben could see by 
 the fresh, irregular tracks that cut up the road where 
 she had galloped for help. For a mile or more they 
 went, then she paused at a pair of bars, which were 
 let down to allow the carts to pass into the wide hay- 
 fields beyond. On she went again, cantering across the 
 new-mown turf toward a brook, across which she had 
 e^sidently taken a leap before ; for, on the further side, 
 at a place where cattle went to drink, the mud showed 
 »igns of a fall. 
 
 ^'You were a fool to try there; but where m Misa 
 
176 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Celia?" said Ben, who talked to animals as if they 
 were people, and was understood much better than 
 any one not used to their companionship would im- 
 agine. 
 
 Now Lita seemed at a loss, and put her head down, 
 as if she expected to find her mistress where she had 
 left her, somewhere on the ground. Ben called, hut 
 there was no answer ; and he rode slowly along the 
 brook-side, looking far and wide vrith anxious eyes. 
 
 " May be she wasn't hurt, and has gone to that house 
 to wait," thought the boy, pausing for a last sur^^ey of 
 the great, sunny field, which had no place of shelter in 
 it but one rock on the other side of the little stream. 
 As his eye wandered over it, something dark seemed to 
 blow out from behind it, as if the wind j^layed in the 
 folds of a skirt, or a human limb moved. Away v^ent 
 Lita, and in a moment Ben had found Miss Celia, lying 
 in the shadow of the rock, so white and motionless, he 
 feared that she was dead. He leaped down, touched 
 her, spoke to her; and, receiving no answer, rushed 
 away to bring a little water in his leaky hat to sprinkle 
 in her face, as he had seen them do when any of the 
 riders got a fall in the circus, or fainted from exhaus- 
 tion after they left the ring, where " do or die " was the 
 motto all adopted. 
 
 In a minute, the blue eyes opened, and she recognized 
 the anxious face bending over her, saying faintly, as 
 she touched it, — 
 
 " My good little Ben, I knew you'd find me, — I sent 
 Lita for you, — I'm so hurt, I couldn't come." 
 
 "Oh, where? What shall I do? Had I better run 
 up to the house?" asked Ben, overjoyed to hear her 
 
BEN'S RIDE. Ill 
 
 speak, but much dismayed by her aeeming helplessness, 
 for he had seen bad falls, and had them^ too. 
 
 " I feel bruised all over, and my arm is broken, I'm 
 afraid. Lita tried not to hurt me. She slipped, and 
 we went down. I came here into the shade, and the 
 pain made me faint, I suppose. Call somebody, and 
 get me home." 
 
 Then she shut her eyes, and looked so white that Ben 
 hurried away, and burst upon old Mrs. Paine, placidly 
 knitting at the end door, so suddenly that, as she after- 
 ward said, " It sca't her like a clap o' thunder." 
 
 *' Ain't a man nowheres around. All down in the 
 big medder gettin' in hay," was her reply to Ben's 
 breathless demand for " everybody to come and see 
 to Miss Celia." 
 
 He turned to mount, for he had flung himself off 
 before Lita stopped, but the old lady caught his jacket, 
 and asked half a dozen questions in a breath. 
 
 "Who's your folks? What's broke? How 'd she 
 fall? Where is she? Why didn't she come right here? 
 Is it a sunstroke ? " 
 
 As fast as words could tumble out of his mouth, Ben 
 answered, and then tried to free himself ; but the old 
 lady held on, while she gave her directions, expressed 
 her sympathy, and offered her hospitality with inco* 
 herent warmth. 
 
 " Sakes alive! poor dear! Fetch her right in. 
 Liddy, get out the camphire ; and, Melissy, you haul 
 down a bed to lay her on. Falls is dretful uncert'in 
 things ; shouldn't wonder if her back was broke. 
 Father's down yender, and he and Bijah will see 
 to her. You go call 'era, and I'll blow the horn to 
 8* L 
 
178 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 etart 'em up. Tell her we'd be pleased to see her, 
 and it won't make a mite of trouble." 
 
 Ben beard no more, for as Mrs. Paine turned to take 
 down the tin horn he was up and away. 
 
 Several long and dismal toots sent Lita galloping 
 through the grassy path as the sound of the trumpet 
 excites a war-horse, and "father and Bijah," alarmed 
 by the signal at that hour, leaned on their rakes to sur- 
 vey with wonder the distracted-looking httle horseman 
 approaching hke a whirlwind. 
 
 "Guess likely grandpa's had 'nother stroke. Told 
 *em to send over soon's ever it come," said the farmer, 
 calmly. 
 
 " Should n't wonder ef suthing was afire some'r's," 
 conjectured the hired man, surveying the horizon for a 
 cloud of smoke. 
 
 Instead of advancing to meet the messenger, both 
 stood like statues in blue overalls and red flannel shirts, 
 till the boy arrived and told his tale. 
 
 " Sho, that's bad," said the farmer, anxiously. 
 
 " That brook always was the darndest place," added 
 Bijah ; then both men bestirred themselves helpfully, 
 the former huiTying to Miss Ceha while the latter 
 brought up the cart and made a bed of hay to lay 
 her on. 
 
 " Now then, boy, you go for the doctor. My women 
 fo^ks will see to the lady, and she 'd better keep quiet 
 up 3'ender till we see what the matter is," said the 
 farmer, when the pale girl was lifted in as carefully as 
 four- strong arms could do it. "Hold on," he added, 
 as Ben made one leap to Lita's back. "You'll have 
 to go to Berrj^lle. Dr. Mills is a master hand for 
 

 Bex and Lita. 
 
 But Ben did not hear her. for he was off across the fields, riding as 
 if life and death depended upon his speed." — Page 179. 
 
BEN'S RIDE. 179 
 
 broken bones and old Dr. Babcock ain't. 'Tisn't but 
 about thiee mile from here to Ms bouse, and you'll 
 fetch him 'fore there's any harm done waitin'." 
 
 " Don't kill Lita," called Miss Celia from the cart, as 
 iv began to move. 
 
 But Ben did not hear her, for he was off across the 
 fields, riding as if hfe and death depended upon hia 
 speed. 
 
 "That boy will break his neck!" said Mr. Paine, 
 standing still to watch horse and rider go over the wall 
 as if bent on instant destruction. 
 
 "No fear for Ben, he can ride any thing, and Lita 
 was trained to leap," answered Miss Celia, falhng back 
 on the hay with a groan, for she had involuntarily 
 raised her head to see her little squire dash away in 
 gallant stjde. 
 
 ^ "I should hope so ; regular jockey, that boy. Never 
 see any thing like it out of a race-ground," and Farmer 
 Paine strode on, still following with his eye the figures 
 that went thundering over the bridge, up the hill, out 
 of sight, leaving a cloud of dust behind. 
 
 Now that his mistress was safe, Ben enjoyed that 
 wild ride mightily, and so did the bay mare ; for Lita 
 had good blood in her, and proved it that day by doing 
 ^er three miles in a wonderfully short time. People 
 jogging along in wagons and country carry-alls, stared 
 amazed as the reckless pair went hj. Women, pla- 
 cidly doing their afternoon sewing at the front windows, 
 dropped their needles to run out with exclamations of 
 alarm, sure some one was being run away with ; chil- 
 dren placing by the roadside scattered like chickens 
 before a hawk, as Ben passed with a warning whoop, 
 
180 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 and baby-carriages were scrambled into door-yards with 
 perilous rapidity at Ms approach. 
 
 But when he clattered into town, intense interest was 
 felt in this barefooted boy on the foaming steed, and a 
 dozen voices asked, ' ' Who 's killed ? " as he pulled up 
 at the doctor's gate. 
 
 '* Jest drove off that way; Mrs. Fl^nn's baby's in s 
 fit," cried a stout lady from the piazza, never ceasing 
 to rock, though several passers-by paused to hear the 
 news, for she was a doctor's wife, and used to the 
 anival of excited messengers from all quarters at all 
 hours of the day and night. 
 
 Deigning no reply to any one, Ben rode away, wish- 
 ing he could leap a yawning gulf, scale a precipice, or 
 ford a raging toiTcnt, to prove his devotion to Miss 
 Ceha, and his skill in horsemanship. But no dangers 
 beset his path, and he found the doctor pausing to 
 water his tired horse at the very trough where Bab and 
 Sancho had been discovered on that ever-memorable 
 day. The story was quickly told, and, promising to be 
 there as soon as possible, Dr. Mills drove on to relieve 
 baby Flynn's inner man, a little distm^bed by a bit of 
 soap and several buttons, upon which he had privately 
 lunched while his mamma was busy at the wash-tub. 
 
 Ben thanked his stars, as he had already done more 
 than once, that he knew how to take care of a horse ; 
 for he delayed by the watering-place long enough to 
 wash out tita's mouth with a handful of wet grass, 
 to let her have one swallow to clear her dusty throat, 
 and then went slowly back over the breezy hills, pat- 
 ting and praising the good creature for her intelligence 
 and speed. She knew well enough that she had been 
 
BEN'S RIDE. 181 
 
 a clever little mare, and tossed her head, arched her 
 glossy neck, and ambled daintily along, as conscious 
 and coquettish as a prett}^ woman, looking round at 
 her admiring rider to return his compliments by glances 
 of affection, and caressing sniffs of a velvet nose at his 
 bare feet. 
 
 Miss Celia had been laid comfortably in bed by the 
 farmer's wife and daughter ; and, when the doctor 
 arrived, bore the setting of her ann bravely. No other 
 serious damage appeared, and bruises soon heal, so 
 Ben was sent home to comfort Thorny with a good 
 report, and ask the squire to drive up in his big 
 carry- all for her the next day, if she was able to 
 be moved. 
 
 Mrs. Moss had been wise enough to say nothing, but 
 quietly made what preparations she could, and waited 
 for tidings. Bab and Betty were away berrying, so no 
 one had alarmed Thorny, and he had his afternoon nap 
 in peace, — an unusually long one, owing to the stillness 
 which prevailed in the absence of the children ; and 
 when he awoke he lay reading for a while before he 
 began to wonder where every one was. Lounging out 
 to see, he found Ben and Lita reposing side by side on 
 the fresh straw in the loose box, which had been made 
 for her in the coach-house. By the pails, sponges and 
 curry-combs lying about, it was evident that she had 
 been refreshed by a careful washing and rubbing 
 down, and my lady was now luxuriously resting after 
 her labors, with her devoted groom half asleep close 
 
 by. 
 
 "Well, of all queer boys you are the queerest, to 
 spend this hot afternoon fussing over Lita, just for the 
 
182 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 ftrn of it ! " cried Thorny, looking in at tliem mih 
 miicli amusement. 
 
 " K you knew what we'd been doing j^ou'd think I 
 ought to fuss over her, and both of us had a right to 
 rest ! " answered Ben, rousing up as bright as a button ; 
 for he longed to tell his thrilling tale, and had with 
 difficult}" been restrained from biu'sting in on Thorny as 
 soon as he arrived. 
 
 He made short work of the story, but was quite satis- 
 fied with the sensation it produced ; for his listener was 
 startled, relieved, excited and charmed, in such rapiil 
 succession, that he was obliged to sit upon the meal- 
 chest and get his breath before he could exclaim, with 
 an emphatic demonstration of his heels against the 
 bin, — 
 
 "Ben Brown, I'll never forget what you've done 
 for Ceha this day, or say ' bow-legs ' again as long as 
 I live ! " 
 
 ' ' George ! I felt as if I had six legs when we were 
 going the pace. We were all one piece, and had a jolly 
 spin, didn't we, my beauty ? " and Ben chuckled as he 
 took Lita's head in his lap, while she answered with a 
 gusty sigh that nearly blew him away. 
 
 "Like the fellow that brought the good news from 
 Ghent to Aix," said Thorny, surveying the recumbent 
 pair with great, admiration. 
 
 "What fellow?" asked Ben, wondering if he didn't 
 mean Sheridan, of whose ride he had heard. 
 
 " Don't you know that piece? I spoke it at school. 
 Give it to you now ; see if it isn't a rouser." 
 
 And, glad to find a vent for his excitement, Thorny 
 mounted the meal-chest, to thunder out that stiiTins 
 
BEN'S RIDE. 183 
 
 ballad with such spirit that Lita pricked up her ears 
 and Ben gave a shrill ''Hooray!" as the last verse 
 ended. 
 
 " And all I remember is friends flocking romid, 
 As I sat with his head 'twixt my knees on the ground, 
 And no voice but was praising this Roland of mine, 
 As I poured down his throat our last measure of wine, 
 Which (the burgesses voted by common consent) 
 Was no more than his due who brought good news from Ghefnt" 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 DETECTIVE THORNTON. 
 
 A FEW days later, Miss Celia was able to go about 
 with her arm in a sling, pale still, and rather stiff, 
 but so much better than any one expected, that all 
 agreed Mr. Paine was right in pronouncing Dr. Mills 
 "a master hand with broken bones." Two devoted 
 little maids waited on her, two eager pages stood ready 
 to run her eiTands, and friendlj' neighbors sent in 
 delicacies enough to keep these four young persons 
 busily employed in disposing of them. 
 
 Every afternoon the great bamboo lounging chair 
 was brought out and the interesting invalid conducted 
 to it by stout Randa, who was head nui'se, and followed 
 by a train of shawl, cushion, foot- stool and book 
 bearers, who buzzed about like s wanning bees round a 
 new queen. When all were settled, the little maids 
 sewed and the pages read aloud, with much conversa- 
 tion by the way ; for one of the rules was, that all 
 shoQld listen attentively, and if any one did not under- 
 stand what was read, he or she should ask to have it 
 explained on the spot. Whoever could answer was in- 
 vited to do so, and at the end of the reading Miss Celia 
 could ask any she liked, or add any explanations which 
 seemed necessary. In this way much pleasui'e and 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTON. 185 
 
 profit was extracted from the tales Ben and Thorny 
 read, and much unexpected knowledge as well as ignor- 
 ance displaj'ed, not to mention piles of neatly henamed 
 towels for which Bab and Betty were paid like regular 
 sewing- women. 
 
 So vacation was not all play, and the girls found 
 yieir picnics, berry parties, and ^'goin' a visitin'," all 
 the more agreeable for the quiet hour spent with Miss 
 Celia. Thorny had improved wonderfully, and was get- 
 ting to be quite energetic, especially since his sister's 
 accident ; for while she was laid up he was the head of 
 the house, and much enjoyed his promotion. But Ben 
 did not seem to flourish as he had done at first. The 
 loss of Sancho preyed upon him sadly, and the longing 
 to go and find his dog grew into such a strong tempta- 
 tion that he could hardly resist it. He said little about 
 it ; but now and then a word escaped him which might 
 have enlightened any one who chanced to be watching 
 him. No one was-, just then, so he brooded over this 
 fancy, day by day, in silence and solitude, for there was 
 no riding and driving now. Thorny was busy with his 
 sister tr;ying to show her that he remembered how good 
 she had been to him when he was ill, and the httle girls 
 had their own aflfairs. 
 
 Miss Ceha was the first to observe the change, having 
 nothing to do but he on the sofa and amuse herself by 
 seeing others work or play. Ben was bright enough 
 at the readings, because then he forgot his troubles ; but 
 when they were over and his various duties done, he 
 went to his own room or sought consolation with Lita, 
 being sober and quiet, and quite unlike the merry 
 monkey all knew and liked so weU. 
 
186 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 " Thorny, what is the matter with Ben? " asked Miss 
 Celia, one day, when she and her brother were alone in 
 the " green parlor," as they called the lilac-tree walk. 
 
 " Fretting about Sanch, I suppose. I declare I wish 
 that dog had never been born ! Losing him has just 
 spoilt Ben. Not a bit of fun left in him, and he won't 
 have any thing I offer to cheer him up." 
 
 Thorny spoke impatiently, and knit his brows 07ei 
 the pressed flowers he was neatly gumming into his 
 herbal. 
 
 "I wonder if he has any thing on his mind? He 
 acts as if he was hiding a trouble he didn't dare to tell. 
 Have you talked with him about it ? " asked Miss Ceha, 
 looking as if she was hiding a trouble she did not like to 
 teU. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I poke him up now and then, but he gets 
 peppery, so I let him alone. May be he is longing for his 
 old cii'cus again. Shouldn't blame him much if he was ; 
 it isn't very lively here, and he 's used to excitement, 
 you know." 
 
 " I hope it isn't that. Do you think he would slip 
 away without telling us, and go back to the old life 
 again?" 
 
 '' Don't believe he would. Ben isn't a bit of a sneak, 
 that 's why I like him.'* 
 
 " Have you ever found him sly or untrue in any way ? * 
 asked IMiss Celia, lowering her voice. 
 
 " No ; he 's as fair and square a fellow as I ever saw. 
 Little bit low, now and then, but he doesn't mean it, 
 and wants to be a gentleman, only he never hved with 
 one before, and it 's all new to him. I '11 get hin! 
 polished up after a while r" 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTON, 187 
 
 " Oh, Thorny, there are three peacocks on the place, 
 and you are the finest ! " laughed Miss Celia, as her 
 brother spoke in his most condescending way with a lift 
 of the eyebrows very droll to see. 
 
 " And two donkeys, and Ben 's the biggest, not to 
 know when he is well off and happy ! " retorted the 
 *' gentleman," slapping a di'ied specimen on the page aa 
 if he were pounding discontented Ben. 
 
 "Come here and let me tell you something which 
 worries me. I would not breathe it to another soul, but 
 I feel rather helpless, and I dare say you can manage 
 the matter better than I." 
 
 Looking much mystified, Thorny went and sat on the 
 stool at his sister's feet, while she whispered confiden- 
 tially in his ear: "I've lost some money out of my 
 drawer, and I 'm so afraid Ben took it." 
 
 " But it 's always locked up and you keep the keys of 
 the drawer and the little room ? " 
 
 " It is gone, nevertheless, and I 've had my keys safe 
 all the time." 
 
 "But why think it is he any more than Randa, or 
 Katy, or me ? " 
 
 " Because I trust you three as I do myself. I ve 
 known the girls for years, and you have no object in 
 taking it since all I have is yours, dear." 
 
 " And all mine is yours, of course. But, Celia, how 
 could he do it? He can't pick locks, I know, for we 
 ftissed over my desk together, and had to break it after 
 aU." 
 
 "I never really thought it possible till to-day when 
 you were playing baU and it went in at the upper win- 
 dow, and Ben chmbed up the porch afier it ; you re- 
 
188 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 member 3'Ou said, ' If it had gone m at the garret gable 
 you couldn't have done that so well ; ' and he answered, 
 ' Yes, I could, there isn't a spout I can't shin up, or a 
 bit of this roof I haven't been over.' " 
 
 '* So he did ; but there is no spout near the little room 
 window." 
 
 " There is a tree, and such an agile boy as Ben could 
 swing in and out easily. Now, Thorny, I hate to think 
 this of him, but it has happened twice, and for his own 
 sake I must stop it. K he is planning to run away, 
 money is a good thing to have. And he may feel that 
 it is his own ; for you know he asked me to put his 
 wages in the bank, and I did. He may not like to come 
 to me for that, because he can give no good reason for 
 wanting it. I 'm so troubled I really don't know what 
 to do." 
 
 She looked troubled, and Thorny put his anns about 
 her as if to keep all worries but his own away from her. 
 
 " Don't you fret, Cely, dear ; you leave it to me. I '11 
 fix him — ungrateful httle scamp I " 
 
 *' That is not the way to begin. I am afraid you will 
 make him angry and hiu*t his feelings, and then we can 
 do nothing." 
 
 " Bother his feelings ! I shall just say, calmly and 
 coolly : ' Now, look here, Ben, hand over the money you 
 took out of my sister's drawer, and we 'U let you oiT 
 easy,' or something like that." 
 
 '' It wouldn't do, Thorny ; his temper would be up in 
 a minute, and away he would go before we could find 
 out whether he was guilty or not. I wish I knew how 
 to manage." 
 
 " Let me think," and Thorny leaned his chin on the 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTON. 189 
 
 arm of the chair, staring hard at the knocker as if he 
 expected the lion's mouth to open with words of counsel 
 then and there. 
 
 '' By Jove, I do believe Ben took it ! " he broke out 
 suddenly ; "for when I went to his room this mormng 
 to see why he didn't come and do my boots, he shut the 
 diawer in his bureau as quick as a flash, and looked red 
 and queer, for I didn't knock, and sort of startled him.*" 
 
 "He wouldn't be likely to put stolen money there. 
 Ben is too wise for that." 
 
 " He wouldn't keep it there, but he might be looking 
 at it and pitch it in when I called. He 's hardly spoken 
 to me since, and when I asked him what his flag was at 
 half-mast for, he wouldn't answer. Besides, you know 
 in the reading this afternoon he didn't listen, and when 
 you asked what he was thinking about, he colored up 
 and muttered something about Sanch. I tell you, Celia, 
 it looks bad — very bad," and Thorny shook his head 
 with a wise air. 
 
 " It does, and yet we may be all wrong. Let us 
 wait a little and give the poor boy a chance to clear 
 himself before we speak. I 'd rather lose my money 
 than suspect him falsely." 
 
 "How much was it?" 
 
 "Eleven dollars; a one went first, and I supposed 
 I'd miscalculated somewhere when I took some outj 
 but when I missed a ten, I felt that I ought not to let it 
 pass/' 
 
 " Look here, sister, you just put the case into my 
 hands and let me work it up. I won't say anything to 
 Ben till you give the word ; but I '11 watch him, and now 
 that my eyes are open, it won't be easy to deceive me." 
 
190 UNDER THE LILAC 8- 
 
 ThorDj was evidently pleased with the new play of 
 detective, and intended to distinguish himself in that 
 line ; but when Miss Ceha asked how he meant to begin, 
 he could only respond with a blank expression : " Don't 
 know ! You give me the keys and leave a bill or two 
 in the drawer, and maj' be I can find him out somehow." 
 
 So the keys were given, and the little di-essing-room 
 where the old secretary stood was closelj' watched for a 
 day or two. Ben cheered up a ti'ifle, which looked as if 
 he knew an eye was upon him, but otherwise he went 
 on as usual, and Miss Ceha, feeling a little guilty at 
 even harboring a suspicion of him, was kind and patient 
 with his moods. 
 
 Thorny was very funny in the unnecessary mystery 
 and fuss he made ; his affectation of careless indiffer- 
 ence to Ben's movements and his clumsy attempts to 
 watch every one of them ; his dodgings up and down 
 stairs, ostentatious clanking of keys, and the elaborate 
 traps he set to catch his thief, such as throwing his ball 
 in at the di'essing-room window and sending Ben up the 
 tree to get it, which he did, thereby proving bej^ond a 
 doubt that he alone could have taken the mone}^, Thorny 
 thought. Another deep discovery was, that the old 
 drawer was so shrunken that the lock could be pressed 
 down by shpping a knife-blade between the hasp and 
 socket. 
 
 " Now it is as clear as day, and you 'd better let me 
 speak," he said, full of piide as well as regret, at this 
 triumphant success of his first attempt as a detective. 
 
 "Not yet, and you need do nothing more. I'm 
 afraid it was a mistake of mine to let you do this ; and 
 if it has spoiled your friendship with Ben, I shall be 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTON. 19l 
 
 very sorry ; for I do not think he is guilty," answered 
 Miss Celia. 
 
 " Why not? " and Thorny looked annoyed. 
 
 ^' I 've watched also, and he doesn't a<it like a deceit- 
 ful boy. To-day I asked him if he wanted any money, or 
 should I put what I owe him with the rest, and he looked 
 me straight in the face with such honest, grateful eyes, I 
 could not doubt him when he said : ' Keep it, please, I 
 don't need any thing here, you are all so good to me." 
 
 " Now, Ceha, don't you be soft-hearted. He 's a sly 
 little dog, and knows my eye is on htm. When /asked 
 him what he saw in the dressing-room, after he brought 
 out the ball, and looked sharply at him, he laughed, 
 and said : ' Only a mouse,' as saucy as you please." 
 
 "Do set the trap there, I heard the mouse nibbling 
 last night, and it kept me awake. We must have a cat 
 or we shall be overrun." 
 
 *' Well, shall I give Ben a good blowing up, or will 
 you ? " asked Thorny, scorning such poor prey as mice, 
 and bound to prove that he was in the right. 
 
 *' I '11 let you know what I have decided in the morn- 
 ing. Be kind to Ben, meantime, or I shall feel as if I 
 bad done you harm by letting you watch him." 
 
 Sc it was left for that day, and by the next. Miss 
 Celia had made up her mind to speak to Ben. She was 
 just going down to breakfast when the sound of loud 
 voices made her pause and listen. It came from Ben's 
 room, where the two boys seemed to be disputing about 
 something. 
 
 '' I hope Thorny has kept his promise," she thought, 
 and hurried through the back entry, fearing a general 
 explosion. 
 
192 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Ben's chamber was at the end, and she could see and 
 hear what was going on before she was near enough to 
 interfere. Ben stood against his closet door looking 
 as fierce and red as a turkey-cock ; Thorny sternly con- 
 fronted him, sa\ing in an excited tone, and with a 
 threatening gesture: "You are hiding something in 
 there, and you can't deny it." 
 
 "I don't." 
 
 " Better not ; I insist on seeing it." 
 
 " WeU, you won't." 
 
 " What have you been stealing now?" 
 
 " Didn't steal it, — used to be mine, — I only took 
 it when I wanted it." 
 
 "I know what that means. You'd better give it 
 back or I 'U make you." 
 
 " Stop ! " cried a third voice, as Thorny put out his 
 arm to clutch Ben, who looked ready to defend himself 
 to the last gasp. "Boys, I wiU settle this affair. Is 
 there any thing hidden in the closet, Ben?" and Miss 
 Ceha came between the belligerent parties with her one 
 hand ap to part them. 
 
 Thorny feU back at once, looking half ashamed of his 
 heat, and Ben briefly answered, with a gulp as if shame 
 or anger made it hard to speak steadily : 
 
 " Yes 'm, there is." 
 
 ** Does it belong to you?" 
 
 " Yes 'm, it does." 
 
 " Where did you get it ? " 
 
 " Up to Squire's." 
 
 " That 's a he ! " muttered Thorny to himself. 
 
 Ben's eye flashed, and his fist doubled up in spite of 
 him, but he restrained himself out of respect for Miss 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTON. W6 
 
 Celia, who looked puzzled, as she asked another ques- 
 tion, not quite sure how to proceed with the investiga- 
 tion ; *' Is it money, Ben?" 
 
 ''No'm, it isn't. 
 
 *'Then what cawitbe?" 
 
 "Meow!" answered a fourth voice from the closet, 
 and as Ben flung open the door a gray kitten walked 
 out, purring with satisfaction at her release. 
 
 Miss Ceha fell into a chair and laughed till her eyes 
 were full ; Thorny looked foolish, and Ben folded his 
 arms, curled up his nose, and regarded his accuser with 
 calm defiance, while pussy sat down to wash her face as 
 if her morning toilette had been interrupted by her 
 sudden abduction. 
 
 "That's all very well, but it doesn't mend matters 
 much, so you needn't laugh, Celia," began Thorny, re- 
 covering himself^ and stubbornly bent on sifting the 
 case to the bottom, now he had begun. 
 
 "Well, it would, if you'd let a feller alone. She 
 said she wanted a cat, so I went and got the one they 
 gave me when I was at the Squire's. I went early and 
 took her without asking, and I had a right to," explained 
 Ben, much aggrieved by having his surprise spoiled. 
 
 " It was very kind of you, and I 'm glad to have this 
 nice kitty. We will shut her up in my room to catch 
 the mice that plague me," said Miss Ceha, picking up 
 the little cat, and wondering how she would get her two 
 angry boys safely down stairs. 
 
 " The dressing-room, she means ; you know the way, 
 and you don't need keys to get in," added Thorny, with 
 such sarcastic emphasis that Ben felt some insult was 
 intended, and promptly resented it. 
 
194 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 *' Ton won't get me to climb any more trees after 
 your balls, and my cat won't catch any of your mice, so 
 you needn't ask me." 
 
 "Cats don't catch thieves, and they are what I'm 
 after ! " 
 
 *'• What do you mean by that ? " fiercely demanded Ben, 
 
 " Celia has lost some money out of her drawer, and 
 you won't let me see what 's in yours ; so I thought, 
 perhaps, you'd got it ! " blui-ted out Thorny, finding it 
 hard to say the words, angry as he was, for the face 
 opposite did not look like a guilty one. 
 
 For a minute, Ben did not seem to understand him, 
 plainly as he spoke ; then he turned an angry scarlet, 
 and, with a reproachful glance at his mistress, opened 
 the little drawer so that both could see all that it con- 
 tained. 
 
 " The}^ ain't any thing ; but I'm fond of 'em — they 
 are all I 've got — I was afraid he 'd laugh at me that 
 time, so I wouldn't let him look — it was father's birth- 
 day, and I felt bad about him and Sanch — " 
 
 Ben's indignant voice got more and more mdistinct 
 as he stumbled on, and broke down over the last words. 
 He did not cry, however, but threw back his httle treas- 
 ures as if half their sacredness was gone ; and, making 
 a strong eflfort at self-control, faced around, asking of 
 Miss Celia, with a giieved look, — 
 
 " Did you think I 'd steal any thing of yom*s? " 
 
 " I tried not to, Ben, but what could I do? It was 
 gone, and you the only stranger about the place." 
 
 " Wasn't there any one to think bad of but me?" he 
 said, so sorrowfully that Miss Celia made up her mind 
 on the spot that he was as innocent of the theft as the 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTOJSl. 195 
 
 kitten now^ biting her buttons, no other refreshment 
 being offered. 
 
 "Nobody, for I know my girls well. Yet, eleven 
 dollars are gone, and I cannot imagine where or how ; 
 for both drawer and door are always locked, because 
 my papers and valuables are in that room." 
 
 *' What a lot ! But how could / get it if it waa 
 (ocked up?" and Ben looked as if that question waa 
 unanswerable. 
 
 " Folks that can climb in at windows for a ball, can 
 go the same way for money, and get it easy enough 
 when they 've only to pry open an old lock ! " 
 
 Thorny's look and tone seemed to make plain to Ben 
 all that they had been suspecting, and, being innocent, 
 he was too perplexed and unhappy to defend himself. 
 His eye went from one to the other, and, seeing doubt 
 in both faces, his boyish heart sunk within him ; for he 
 could prove nothing, and his first impulse was to go 
 away at once. 
 
 "I can't say any thing, only that I didnH take the 
 money. You won't believe it, so I'd better go back 
 where I come from. They weren't so kind, but they 
 trusted me, and knew I wouldn't steal a cent. You 
 may keep my money, and the kitty, too ; I don't want 
 "em," and, snatching up his hat, Ben would have gone 
 straight away, if Thorny had not baiTed his passage. 
 
 " Come, now, don't be mad. Let's talk it over, and 
 if I 'm wrong I '11 take it all back and ask your pardon," 
 he said, in a friendly tone, rather scared at the conse- 
 quences of his first attempt, though as sure as ever that 
 he was right. 
 
 " It would break my heart to have you go in that 
 
196 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 way, Ben. Stay at least till your innocence i? proved, 
 then no one can doubt what you say now." 
 
 "Don't see how it can be proved," answered Ben, 
 appeased by her evident desire to trust him. 
 
 "We'll try as well as we know how, and the first 
 thing we will do is to give that old secretary a good 
 rummage from top to bottom. I 've done it once, but 
 it is just possible that the bills may have slipped out of 
 sight. Come, now, I can't rest till I 've done all 1 can 
 to comfort you and convince Thorny." 
 
 Miss Ceha rose as she spoke, and led the way to the 
 dressing-room, which had no outlet except through her 
 chamber. Still holding his hat, Ben followed with a 
 troubled face, and Thorny brought up the rear, dog- 
 gedly determined to keep his eye on " the little scamp" 
 till the matter was satisfactorily cleared up. Miss 
 Celia had made her proposal more to soothe the feel- 
 ings of one boy and to employ the superfluous energies 
 of the other, than in the expectation of throwing any 
 light upon the mystery ; for she was sadly puzzled by 
 Ben's manner, and much regretted that she had let her 
 brother meddle in the matter. 
 
 "There," she said, unlocking the door with the key 
 Thorny reluctantly gave up to her, " this is the room 
 and that is the drawer on the right. The lower ones 
 have seldom been opened since we came, and bold only 
 some of papa's old books. Those upper ones you may 
 turn out and investigate as much as you — Bless 
 me ! here 's something in your trap. Thorny ! " and 
 Miss Celia gave a httle skip as she nearly trod on a 
 long, gray tail, which hung out of the hole now filled 
 by a plump mouse. 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTON. 1U7 
 
 Bat her brother was intent on more serious things, 
 and merely pushed the trap aside as he pulled out the 
 drawer with an excited gesture, which sent it and all its 
 contents clattering to the floor. 
 
 *' Confound the old thing ! It always stuck so I had 
 k> give a jerk. Now, there it is, topsy-turvy ! " and 
 Thorny looked much disgusted at his own awkward- 
 ness. 
 
 " No harm done ; I left nothing of value in it. Look 
 back there, Ben, and see if there is room for a paper 
 to get worked over the top of the drawer. I felt quite 
 a crack, but I don't beUeve it is possible for things to 
 shp out ; the place was never full enough to overflow in 
 any way." 
 
 Miss Celia spoke to Ben, who was kneeling down 
 to pick up the scattered papers, among which were two 
 marked dollar bills, — Thornj'^s bait for the thief. Ben 
 looked into the dusty recess, and then put in his hand, 
 saying carelessly, — 
 
 " There 's nothing but a bit of red stuff." 
 
 *'My old pen- wiper — Why, what's the matter?" 
 asked Miss Celia, as Ben di'opped the handful of what 
 looked like rubbish. 
 
 " Something warm and wiggly inside of it," answered 
 Ben, stooping to examine the contents of the little scar- 
 let bundle. "Baby mice! Ain't they funny? Look 
 just like mites of young pigs. "We '11 have to kill 'em 
 if you 've caught their mammy," he said, forgetting his 
 own trials in boyish curiosity about his " find." 
 
 Miss Celia stooped also, and gently poked the red 
 cradle with her linger ; for the tiny mice were nest- 
 ling deeper into the fluff with small squeaks of alann. 
 
198 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 Suddenly she cried out: "Boys, boys, I've found the 
 thief! Look here; pull out these bits and see if they 
 won't make up my lost bills." 
 
 Down went the motherless babies as four ruthless 
 hands pulled apart their cosey nest, and there, among 
 the nibbled fragments, appeared enough finely printed, 
 greenish paper, to piece out parts of two bank bills, 
 A large c^^her and part of a figui'e one were visible, 
 and that accounted for the ten ; but though there were 
 other bits, no figures could be found, and they were 
 willing to take the other bill on trust. 
 
 "Now, then, am I a thief and a liar?" demanded 
 Ben, pointing proudly to the tell-tale letters spread 
 forth on the table, over which all three had been eagerly 
 bending. 
 
 "No; I beg your pardon, and I'm veiy sorry that 
 we didn't look more carefully before we spoke, then we 
 all should have been spared this pain." 
 
 " All right, old fellow, forgive and forget. I '11 never 
 think hard of you again, — on my honor I won't." 
 
 As they spoke. Miss Ceha and her brother held out 
 their hands frankly and heartily. Ben shook both, but 
 with a difference ; for he pressed the soft one grate- 
 fully, remembering that its owner had always been 
 good to him ; but the brown paw he gripped with a 
 vengefhl squeeze that made Thorny pull it away in a 
 hurry, exclaiming, good-naturedly, in spite of both 
 physical and mental discomfort, — 
 
 "Come, Ben, don't you bear malice ; for you've 
 got the laugh on your side, and we feel pretty small. 
 I do, any way ; for, after my fidgets, all I 've caught is 
 a mouse ! " 
 
DETECTIVE THORNTON. 199 
 
 ** And her family. I 'm so relieved I 'm almost sorry 
 the poor little mother is dead — she and her babies 
 were so happy in the old pen-wiper," said Miss Celia, 
 hastening to speak merrily, for Ben still looked indig- 
 nant, and she was much grieved at what had happened. 
 
 " A pretty expensive house," began I'horny, looking 
 about for the interesting orphans, who had been left on 
 the floor while their paper-hangiiigs were examined. 
 
 No further anxiety need be felt for them, however^ 
 Kitty had come upon the scene, and as judge, jury, 
 and prisoner, turned to find the little witnesses, they 
 beheld the last pink mite going down Pussy's throat in 
 one mouthful. 
 
 "I call that summary justice, — the whole family 
 executed on the spot ! Give Kit the mouse also, and 
 let us go to breakfast. I feel as if I had found my 
 appetite, now this worry is off my mind," said Miss 
 Ceha, laughing so infectiously that Ben had to join in 
 spite of himself, as she took his arm and led him away 
 with a look which mutely asked his pardon over again. 
 
 " Rather lively for a funeral procession," said Thorny, 
 following with the trap in his hand and Puss at his 
 heels, adding, to comfort his pride as a detective : 
 ** Well, I said I'd catch the thief, and I have, thuugb 
 U is rather a small one I " 
 
CHAPTER XVIi. 
 BETTTS BRAVERY. 
 
 *' /'^ELIA, I've a notion that we ought to give 
 
 ^-^ Ben something. A sort of peace-offering, you 
 know ; for he feels dreadfully hm-t about our suspecting 
 him," said Thorny, at dinner that day. 
 
 "I see he does, though he tries to seem as bright 
 and pleasant as ever. I do not wonder, and I 've been 
 thinking what I could do to soothe his feehngs. Can 
 you suggest any thing ? " 
 
 " Cuff-buttons. I saw some jolly ones over at Berry- 
 ville, — oxidized silver, with dogs' heads on them, yel- 
 low eyes, and all as natural as could be. Those, now, 
 would just suit him for his go-to-meeting white shirts, 
 — neat, appropriate, and in memoriam." 
 
 Miss Ceha could not help laughing, it was such a 
 bojash suggestion ; but she agreed to it, thinking Thorny 
 knew best, and hoping the yellow-eyed dogs would be 
 as balm to Ben's wounds. 
 
 " Well, dear, you may give those, and Lita shall give 
 the httle whip with a horse's foot for a handle, if it is 
 not gone. I saw it at the harness shop in town ; and 
 Ben admired it so much that I planned to give it to him 
 on his birthday." 
 
 " That will tickle him immensely ; and if you'd jusi 
 
BETTTS BRAVERY. 201 
 
 let him put brown tops to my old boots, and stick a 
 cockade in Ms hat when he sits up behind the phaeton, 
 he 'd be a happy fellow : " laughed Thorny, who had 
 discovered that one of Ben's ambitions was to be a 
 ' tip-top groom." 
 
 " No, thank you ; those things are out of place in 
 America, and would be absurd in a small country placo 
 like this. His blue suit and straw hat please me better 
 for a boy ; though a nicer httle groom, in livery or out, 
 no one could desire, and you may tell him I said so." 
 
 "I will, and he'll look as proud as Punch; for he 
 thinks every word you say worth a dozen from any one 
 else. But won't ^om give him something? Just some 
 little trifle, to show that we are both eating humble pie 
 feehng sorry about the mouse money." 
 
 "I shall give him a set of school-books, and try to 
 get him ready to begin when vacation is over. An 
 education is the best present we can make him ; and I 
 want you to help me fit him to enter as well as we can. 
 Bab and Betty began, little dears, — lent him their 
 books and taught all they knew ; so Ben got a taste, 
 and, with the right encouragement, would like to go 
 on, I am sure." 
 
 *' That 's so like you, Ceha ! Always thinking of the 
 test thing and doing it handsomely. I'll help like 
 a house a-fire, if he will let me ; but, all day, he 's 
 been as stiff as a poker, so I don't believe he forgives 
 me a bit." 
 
 " He will in time, and if you are kind and patient, 
 
 he wih be glad to have you help him. I shall make it 
 
 a sort of favor to me on his part, to let you see to his 
 
 lessons, now and then. It will be quite true, for I don't 
 
 9* 
 
202 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 want you to toucii your Latin or algebra till cool weather ; 
 teachiag him will be play to you." 
 
 Miss Celia's last words made her brother unbend hia 
 brows, for he longed to get at his books again, and the 
 idea of being tutor to his ' ' man-servant " did not alto- 
 gether suit him. 
 
 "I'll tool hun along at a great pace, if he will only 
 go. Geography and arithmetic shall be my share, and 
 you may have the writing and spelling ; it gives me the 
 fidgets to set copies, and hear children make a mess of 
 words. Shall I get the books when I buy the other 
 things? Can I go this afternoon?" 
 
 '' Yes, here is the hst ; Bab gave it to me. You can 
 go if you will come home early and have your tooth 
 fiUed." 
 
 Gloom fell at once upon Thom/s beaming face, and 
 he gave such a shrill whistle that his sister jumped in 
 her chair, as she added, persuasively, — 
 
 " It won't hui't a bit, now, and the longer you leave 
 it the worse it will be. Dr. Mann is ready at any time ; 
 and, once over, you will be at peace for months. Come, 
 my hero, give your orders, and take one of the girls to 
 support you in the tiying hour. Have Bab ; she will 
 enjoy it, and amuse you with her chatter." 
 
 '' As if I needed giiis round for such a trifle as that ! ' 
 returned Thorny with a shrug, though he groaned in- 
 wardly at the prospect before him, as most of us do on 
 such occasions. "I wouldn't take Bab at any price; 
 she'd only get into some scrape and upset the whole 
 plan. Betty is the chicken for me, — a real little lady, 
 and as nice and purry as a kitten." 
 
 '* Very well ; ask her mother, and take good care of 
 
BETTY'S BRAVERY. 203 
 
 her. Let her tuck her dolly in, and she will be contented 
 anywhere. There 's a fine air, and the awning is on 
 the phaeton, so you won't feel the sun. Start about 
 three, and drive carefully." 
 
 Betty was charmed to go, for Thorny was a sort of 
 prince in her eyes ; and to be invited to such a grand 
 expedition was an overwhelming honor. Bab was not 
 surprised, for, since Sancho's loss, she had felt herself 
 in disgrace, and been unusually meek ; Ben let her 
 " severely alone," which much afflicted her, for he was 
 her great admiration, and had been pleased to express 
 his approbation of her agility and courage so often, that 
 she was ready to attempt any fool-hardy feat to recover 
 his regard. But vainly did she risk her neck jumping 
 off the highest beams in the barn, trying to keep her 
 balance standing on the donkey's back, and leaping the 
 lodge gate at a bound ; Ben vouchsafed no reward by a 
 look, a smile, a word of commendation ; and Bab felt 
 that nothing but Sancho's return would ever restore the 
 broken friendship. 
 
 Into faithful Betty's bosom did she pour forth her 
 remorseful lamentations, often bursting out v/ith the 
 passionate exclamation, " If I could only find Sanch, 
 and give him back to Ben, I would n't care if I tumbled 
 down and broke all my legs right away ! " Such aban- 
 donment of woe made a deep impression on Betty ; and 
 she fell into the way of consoling her sister by cheerful 
 prophecies, and a firm belief that the organ-man would 
 yet appear with the lost darling. 
 
 " I Ve got five cents of my berry money, and I '11 buy 
 you a orange if I see any," promised Betty, stopping 
 to kiss Bab, as the phaeton came to the door, and Thorny 
 
204 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 handed in a j^oung lady whose white frock was so stilT 
 with starch that it crackled hke paper. 
 
 *' Lemons will do if oranges are gone. I like 'em to 
 BQck with lots of sugar," answered Bab, feeling that the 
 sour sadly predominated in her cup just now. 
 
 " Don't she look sweet, the dear ! " murmured Mra. 
 Moss, proudly surveying her youngest. 
 
 She certainly did, sitting under the fringed canopy 
 with "Behnda," all in her best, upon her lap, as she 
 turned to smile and nod, with a face so bright and win- 
 some under the little blue hat, that it was no wonder 
 mother and sister thought there never was such a perfect 
 child as " our Betty." 
 
 Dr. Mann was busy when they arrived, but would be 
 ready in an hour ; so they did their shopping at once, 
 having made sure of the whip as they came along. 
 Thorny added some candy to Bab's lemon, and Behnda 
 had a cake, which her mamma obligingly ate for her. 
 Betty thought that Aladdin's palace could not have been 
 more splendid than the jeweller's shop where the canine 
 cuff-buttons were bought ; but when they came to the 
 book-store, she forgot gold, silver, and precious stones, 
 to revel in picture-books, while Thorny selected Ben's 
 modest school outfit. Seeing her dehght, and feeling 
 particularly lavish with plenty of money in his pocket, 
 the young gentleman completed the child's bliss by tell- 
 ing her to choose whichever one she liked best out of 
 the pile of Walter Crane's toy-book^ lying in bewilder- 
 ing colors before her. 
 
 " This one ; Bab always wanted to see the dreadful 
 cupboard, and there's a picture of it here," answered 
 Betty, clasping a gorgeous copy of " Bluebeard" to the 
 
BETTTS BRAVERY. 206 
 
 little bosom, which still heaved with the rapture of 
 looking at that delicious mixture of lovely Fatimas 
 in pale azure gowns, pink Sister Annes on the turret 
 top, crimson t^Tants, and yellow brothers with forests 
 of plumage blowing wildly from their mushroom-shaped 
 caps. 
 
 "Very good; there you are, then. Now, come on, 
 for the fun is over and the grind begins," said Thorny, 
 marching away to his doom, with his tongue in his tooth, 
 and trepidation in his manly breast. 
 
 " Shall I shut my eyes and hold your head?" quavered 
 devoted Betty, as they went up the steps so many reluc- 
 tant feet had mounted before them. 
 
 "Nonsense, child, never mind me! You look out 
 of window and amuse yourself; we shall not be long, 
 I guess ; " and in went Thorny, silently hoping that the 
 dentist had been suddenly called away, or some person 
 with an excruciating toothache would be waiting to take 
 ether, and so give our young man an excuse for post- 
 poning his job. 
 
 But no ; Dr. Mann was quite at leisure, and, full of 
 smiling interest, awaited his victim, lading forth his 
 unpleasant little tools with the exasperating alacrity of 
 his kind. Glad to be released from any share in the 
 operation, Betty retired to the back window to be as far 
 away as possible, and for half an hour was so absorbed 
 in her book that poor Thornj' might have groaned dis- 
 mally without disturbing her. 
 
 "Done now, directly; only a trifle of polishing 
 off and a look round," said Dr. Mann, at last ; and 
 Thorny, with a yawn that nearly rent him asunder, 
 called out, — 
 
206 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 " Thank goodness ! Pack up, Bettjkin." 
 
 "I'm all read}'!" and, shutting her book with a 
 start, she slipped down from the easy chair in a great 
 hurry. 
 
 But "looking round" took time; and, before the 
 cu'cuit of Thorny's mouth was satisfactorily' made, Betty 
 had become absorbed b}' a more interesting tale than 
 even the immortal " Bluebeard." A noise of children's 
 voices in the narrow alley-way behind the house at- 
 tracted her attention ; the long window opened directly 
 on the yard, and the gate swung in the wind. Curious 
 as Fatima, Betty went to look ; but all she saw was a 
 group of excited boys peeping between the bars of 
 another gate further down. 
 
 " What 's the matter? " she asked of two small girls, 
 who stood close b}' her, longing but not daring to ap- 
 proach the scene of action. 
 
 " Boys chasing a great black cat, I believe," answered 
 one child. 
 
 " Want to come and see?" added the other, politely 
 extending the invitation to the stranger. 
 
 The thought of a cat in trouble would have nerved 
 Betty to face a dozen boys ; so she followed at once, 
 meeting several lads hm.Tying away on some important 
 errand, to judge from their anxious countenances. 
 
 " Hold tight, Jimmy, and let 'em peek, if they want 
 to. He can't hurt anybody now," said one of the dusty 
 huntsmen, who sat on the wide coping of the wall, while 
 two others hdd the gate, as if a cat could only escape 
 that way. 
 
 "You peek fii'st, Susy, and see if it looks nice," 
 said one little gh-l, boosting her friend so that she 
 
BETTTS BRAVERY. 207 
 
 oould look through the bars in the upper part of the 
 gate. 
 
 " No ; it's only an ugly old dog ! " responded Susy, 
 losing all interest at once, and descending with a 
 bounce. 
 
 «' lie 's mad ! and Jud *s gone to get his gun, so we 
 can shoot him ! " called out one mischievous boy, resent- 
 ing the contempt expressed for their capture. 
 
 '' Ain't, neither ! " howled another lad from his perch. 
 '^ Mad dogs won't drink ; and this one is lapping out of 
 a tub of water." 
 
 " Well, he may be, and we don't know him, and he 
 hasn't got any muzzle on, and the police will kill him 
 if Jud don't," answered the sanguinary youth who had 
 first started the chase after the poor animal, which had 
 come limping into town, so evidently a lost dog that 
 no one felt any hesitation in stoning him. 
 
 "We must go right home; my mother is dreadful 
 Afraid of mad dogs, and so is yours," said Susy ; and, 
 having satisfied their curiosity, the young ladies pru- 
 dently retired. 
 
 But Betty had not had her *' peep," and could not 
 resist one look ; for she had heard of these unhappy 
 animals, and thought Bab would hke to know how they 
 looked. So she stood on tip-toe and got a good view of 
 a dusty, brownish dog, lying on the grass close by, 
 with his tongue hanging out while he panted, as if ex- 
 hausted by fatigue and fear, for he stiU cast apprehen- 
 sive glances at the wall which divided him from his 
 tormentors. 
 
 " His eyes are just like Sanch's," said Betty to her- 
 self, unconscious that she spoke aloud, till she saw the 
 
208 UNDER THE LILAC b, 
 
 creatnre prick up his ears and half rise, as if he had 
 been called. 
 
 ** He looks as if he knew me, but it isn't our Sancho ; 
 he was a lovely dog." Betty said that to the httle bov 
 peeping in beside her ; but before he could make anj 
 reply, the brown beast stood straight up with an inquir- 
 ing bark, while his eyes shone like topaz, and the short 
 tail wagged excitedly. 
 
 ''Why, that's just the way Sanch used to do!" 
 cried Betty, bewildered by the familiar ways of this 
 unfamiliar-looking dog. 
 
 As if the repetition of his name settled his own 
 doubts, he leaped toward the gate and thrust a pink 
 nose between the bars, with a howl of recognition as 
 Betty's face was more clearly seen. The boj's tumbled 
 precipitately from their perches, and the Httle gu^l fell 
 back alarmed, yet could not bear to run away and leave 
 those imploring eyes pleading to her through the bars so 
 eloquently. 
 
 " He acts just like our dog, but I don't see how it 
 can be him. Sancho, Sancho, is it ti'uly you?" called 
 Betty, at her wits' end what to do. 
 
 *' Bow, wow, wow ! " answered the well-known bark, 
 and the httle tail did all it could to emphasize the 
 sound, while the eyes were so full of dumb love and joy, 
 the child could not refuse to believe that this ugly btray 
 was their own Sancho strangely transformed. 
 
 All of a sudden, the thought rushed into her mind, 
 *' How glad Ben would be! — and Bab would feel all 
 happy again. I must carry him home." 
 
 Never stopping to think of danger, and forgetting all 
 he: doubts, Betty caught the gate handle out of Jimmy's 
 
BETTTS BRAVERY, iiJ09 
 
 grasp, exclaiming eagerly: *'He is our dog! Let me 
 go in ; I ain't afraid." 
 
 *' Not till Jud comes back ; he told us we mustn't," 
 answered the astonished Jimmy, thinking the little girl 
 as mad as the dog. 
 
 With a confused idea that the unknown Jud had gone 
 for a gun to shoot Sanch, Betty gave a desperate puH 
 at the latch and ran into the yard, bent on saving her 
 friend. That it was a friend there could be no further 
 question ; for, though the creature rushed at her as if 
 about to devour her at a mouthful, it was only to roll 
 ecstatically at her feet, lick her hands, and gaze into 
 her face, trying to pant out the welcome which he could 
 not utter. An older and more prudent person would 
 have waited to make sure before venturing in ; but con- 
 fiding Betty knew little of the danger which she might 
 have run ; her heart spoke more quickly than her head, 
 and, not stopping to have the truth proved, she took 
 the brown dog on trust, and found it was indeed dear 
 Sanch. 
 
 Sitting on the grass, she hugged him close, careless 
 of tumbled hat, dusty paws on her clean frock, or 9. row 
 of strange boys staring from the wall. 
 
 " Darling doggy, where have you been so long? " she 
 cried, the great thing sprawling across her lap, as if he 
 could not get near enough to his brave little protector. 
 "Did they make you black and beat you, dear? Oh, 
 Sanch, where is your tail — your pretty tail ? " 
 
 A plaintive growl and a pathetic wag was all the 
 answer he could make to these tender inquiries : for 
 never would the story of his wrongs be known, and 
 never could the glory of his doggish beauty be restored 
 
210 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 Betty was trying to comfort him with pats and praises, 
 when a new face appeared at the gate, and Thorny's 
 authoritative voice called out, — 
 
 ''Betty Moss, what on earth are you doing in there 
 with that dirty beast ? " 
 
 "It's Sanch, it's Sanch! Oh, come and see ! *^ 
 shrieked Betty, fljing up to lead forth her prize. 
 
 But the gate was held fast, for some one said the 
 words, " Mad dog," and Thorny was very naturally 
 alaiTaed, because he had already seen one. "Don't 
 stay there another minute. Get up on that bench and 
 1 '11 pull you over," directed Thorny, mounting the waU 
 to rescue his charge in hot haste ; for the dog did cer- 
 tainly behave queerly, limping hurriedly to and fro, as if 
 anxious to escape. No wonder, when Sancho heard a 
 voice he knew, and recognized another face, yet did not 
 meet as kind a welcome as before. 
 
 "No, I 'm not coming out tiU he does. It is Sanch, 
 and I'm going to take him home to Ben," answered 
 Betty, decidedly, as she wet her handkerchief in the 
 rain water to bind up the swollen paw that had travelled 
 many miles to rest in her httle hand again. 
 
 " You're crazy, child. That is no more Ben's dog 
 Uian I am." 
 
 " See if it isn't ! " cried Betty, perfectly unshaken Id 
 her faith ; and, recalling the words of command as 
 well as she could, she tried to put Sancho through his 
 little performance, as the surest proof that she was 
 right. The poor lellow did his best, weary and foot- 
 sore though he was ; but when it came to taking his tail 
 in his mouth to waltz, he gave it up, and, dropping 
 down, hid his face in his paws, as he always did when 
 
BETTTS BRAVERY. 211 
 
 any of his tricks failed. The act was ahnost pathetia 
 now, for one of the paws was bandaged, and his 
 whole attitude expressed the humiliation of a broken 
 spirit. 
 
 That touched Thorny, and, quite convinced both of 
 the dog's sanity and identity, he sprung down from the 
 wall with Ben's own whistle, which gladdened Sancho'a 
 longing ear as much as the boy's rough caresses com- 
 forted his homesick heart. 
 
 " Now, let 's carry him right home, and surprise Ben. 
 Won't he be pleased ? " said Betty, so in earnest that 
 she tried to lift the big brute in spite of his protesting 
 yelps. 
 
 *' You are a little trump to find him out in spite of ali 
 the horrid things that have been done to him. We 
 must have a rope to lead him, for he 's got no collar 
 and no muzzle. He has got friends though, and I 'd 
 like to see any one touch him now. Out of the way, 
 there, boy ! " Looking as commanding as a drum-major, 
 Thorny cleared a passage, and with one arm about his 
 neck, Betty proudly led her treasure forth, magnani- 
 mously ignoring his late foes, and keeping his eye fixed 
 on the faithful friend whose tender little heart had 
 snown him in spite of all disguises. 
 
 '' I found him, sir," and the lad who had been most 
 c^^er for tlic shooting, stepped forward to claim any 
 r<;ward that might be offered for the now valuable 
 victim. 
 
 '' I kept him safe till she came," added the jailei 
 Jimmy, speaking for himself. 
 
 ** I said he wasn't mad," cried a third, feeUng that 
 Ms discrimination deserved approval. 
 
212 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 " Jud ain't my brother," said the fourth, eager lo cleai 
 Ms skirts from all offence. 
 
 " But all of you chased and stoned him, I suppo&e? 
 You'd better look out or you'll get reported to the 
 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals." 
 
 With this awful and mysterious threat, Thorny 
 slammed the doctor's gate in the faces of the mercenary 
 youths, nipping their hopes in the bud, and teaching 
 them a good lesson. 
 
 After one astonished stare, Lita accepted Sancho 
 without demur, and they greeted one another cordially^ 
 nose to nose, instead of shaking hands. Then the dog 
 nestled into his old place under the linen duster with a 
 grunt of intense content, and soon fell fast asleep, quite 
 worn out with fatigue. 
 
 No Roman conqueror bearing untold ti'easures with 
 him, ever approached the Eternal City feeling richer or 
 prouder than did Miss Betty as she rolled rapidly toward 
 the little brown house with the captive won hj her own 
 arms. Poor Belinda was forgotten in a corner, " Blue- 
 beard" was thiTist under the cushion, and the lovely 
 lemon was squeezed before its time by being sat upon ; 
 for all the child could think of was Ben's delight, 
 Bab's remorseful burdev^ lifted off, " Ma's " surprise, and 
 Miss Celia's pleasure. She could hardly realize the 
 happy fact, and kept peeping under the cover to be sur« 
 that the dear dingy bunch at her feet was truly there. 
 
 " I 'U teU you how we '11 do it," said Thorny, break- 
 ing a long silence as Betty composed herself with an 
 irrepressible wriggle of dehght after one of these re- 
 freshing peeps. "We'U keep Sanch hidden, and 
 smuggle him into Ben's old room at your house. Then 
 
BETTTS BRAVERY. 213 
 
 I '11 dilve on to the bam, and not say a word, but send 
 Ben to get something out of that room. You just let 
 hhn in, to see what he '11 do. I '11 bet you a dollar he 
 •v^on't know his own dog." 
 
 ' ' I don't believe I can keep from screaming right 
 out when I see him, but I'll try. Oh, won't it be 
 ^Q ! " — and Betty clapped her hands in joyful antici- 
 pation of that exciting moment. 
 
 A nice little plan, but Master Thorny forgot the 
 keen senses of the amiable animal snoring peacefully 
 among his boots ; and, when they stopped at the 
 Lodge, he had barely time to say in a whisper, 
 "Ben's coming; cover Sanch and let me get him in 
 quick ! " before the dog was out of the phaeton like 
 a bombshell, and the approaching boy went down 
 as if shot, for Sancho gave one leap, and the two 
 rolled over and over, with a shout and a bark of 
 rapturous recognition. 
 
 " Who is hurt? " asked Mrs. Moss, running out with 
 floury hands uplifted in alarm. 
 
 "Is it a bear?" cried Bab, rushing after her, egg 
 beater in hand, for a dancing bear was the desire of her 
 heart. 
 
 " Sancho's found ! Sancho' s found ! " shouted Thorny, 
 Growing up his hat like a lunatic. 
 
 "Found, found, found!" echoed Betty, dancing 
 fflldly about as if she too had lost her little wits. 
 
 "Where? how? when? who did it?" asked Mrs. 
 Moss, clapping her dusty hands delightedly. 
 
 "It isn't; it's an old dirty brown thing," stam- 
 mered Bab, as the dog came uppermost for a minute, 
 and then rooted into Ben's jacket as if he smeM 
 
214 UNDER THE LILAC b. 
 
 a woodchuck, and was bound to have him out 
 dkectly. 
 
 Then Thorny, with many interruptions from Betty, 
 poured forth the wondrous tale, to which Bab and hei 
 mother listened breathlessly, while the muffins burned 
 &s black as a coal, and nobody cared a bit. 
 
 " My precious lamb, how did you dare to do such 
 a thing?" exclaimed Mrs. Moss, hugging the small 
 heroine with mingled admiration and alarm. 
 
 "I'd have dared, and slapped those horrid boys, too. 
 I wish I 'd gone ! " and Bab felt that she had for ever 
 lost the chance of distinguishing herself. 
 
 " Who cut his tail off?" demanded Ben, in a menac- 
 ing tone, as he came uppermost in his turn, dusty, 
 red and breathless, but radiant. 
 
 *' The wretch who stole him, I. suppose ; and he de- 
 serves to be hung," answered Thorny, hotly. 
 
 "K ever I catch him, I'll — I'll cut his nose off," 
 roared Ben, with such a vengeful glare that Sanch 
 barked fiercely ; and it was weU that the unknown 
 " wretch" was not there, for it would have gone hardly 
 with him, since even gentle Betty frowned, while Bab 
 brandished the egg-beater menacingly, and their mother 
 indignantly declared that " it was too bad ! " 
 
 Relieved by this general outburst, they composed 
 their outraged feelings ; and while the returned wan- 
 derer went from one to another to receive a tender 
 welcome from each, the story of his recovery was more 
 calmly told. Ben listened with his eye devouring the 
 injured dog ; and when Thorny paused, he turned to 
 the little heroine, saying solemnly, as he laid her hand 
 with his own on Sancho's head, — 
 
BETTTS BRAVERY. 215 
 
 *' Betty Moss, I 'II never forget what you did ; from 
 this minute half of Sanch is your truly own, and if I 
 die you shall have the whole of him," and Ben sealed 
 the precious gift with a sounding kiss on either chubby 
 cheek. 
 
 Betty was so deeply touched by this noble bequest, 
 that the blue eyes filled and would have overflowed 
 if Sanch had not politely offered his tongue like a 
 red pocket-handkerchief, and so made her laugh the 
 drops away, while Bab set the rest off by saying, 
 gloomily, — 
 
 "I mean to play with all the mad dogs I can 
 find ; then folks will think Pm smart and give me nice 
 things." 
 
 "Poor old Bab, I'll forgive you now, and lend 
 you my half whenever you want it," said Ben, feeling 
 at peace now with all mankind, including girls who 
 tagged. 
 
 " Come and show him to Ceha," begged Thorny, 
 eager to fight his battles over again. 
 
 '* Better wash him up first ; he 's a sight to see, poor 
 thing," suggested Mrs. Moss, as she ran in, suddenly 
 remembering her muffins. 
 
 " It will take a lot of washings to get that brown 
 stuff off. See, his pretty pink skin is all stained with 
 it. We '11 bleach him out, and his curls will grow, and 
 he '11 be as good as ever — all but — " 
 
 Ben could not finish, and a general wail went up for 
 the departed tassel that would never wave proudly in 
 the breeze again. 
 
 *' I'll buy him a new one. Now form the procession 
 and let us go in style," said Thorny, cheerily, as Le 
 
216 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 swung Betty to his shoulder and marched away whist- 
 hng "Hail! the conquering hero comes," while Ben 
 and his Bow-wow followed arm-in-ai-m, and Bab 
 brought up the rear, banging on a milk-pan with the 
 egg-beater. 
 
CHAPTER XVm. 
 
 BOWS AND ARROWS. 
 
 IF Sancho's abduction made a stir, one may easily 
 imagine with what warmth and interest he was 
 welcomed back when his wrongs and wanderings were 
 known. For several days he held regular levees, that 
 em'ious boys and sympathizing giiis might see and pity 
 the changed and curtailed dog. Sanch behaved vrith 
 dignified affability, and sat upon his mat in the coach- 
 house pensively epng his guests, and patiently submit- 
 ting to their caresses ; while Ben and Thorny took turns 
 to teR the few tragical facts which were not shrouded 
 in the deepest mystery. K the interesting sufferer could 
 only have spoken, what thrilling adventures and hair- 
 breadth escapes he might have related. But, alas ! he 
 was dumb ; and the secrets of that memorable month 
 never were revealed. 
 
 The lame paw soon healed, the dingy color slowly 
 yielded to many washings, the woolly coat began to 
 knot up into little curls, a new collar, handsomely 
 marked, made him a respectable dog, and Sancho was 
 himself again. Bat it was evident that his sufferings 
 were not forgotten ; his once sweet temper was a trifle 
 soured ; and, with a few exceptions, he had lost his 
 faith in mankind. Before, he had been the most benev- 
 10 
 
218 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 olent and hospitable of dogs ; now, he eyed all strangers 
 suspiciously, and the sight of a shabby man made him 
 growl and bristle up, as if the memory of his wrongs 
 still burned hotly within him. 
 
 Foi-tunately, his gi*atitude was stronger than his re- 
 sentment, an?l he never seemed to forget that he owed 
 his life to Betty, — running to meet her whenever sne 
 appeared, instantly obeying her commands, and sulfer» 
 ing no one to molest her when he walked watchfully 
 beside her, with her hand upon his neck, as they had 
 walked out of the almost fatal backyard together, faith- 
 ftd friends for ever. 
 
 Miss Celia called them little Una and her lion, and 
 read the pretty story to the childi'en when they wondered 
 what she meant. Ben, with great pains, taugnt the 
 dog to spell " Betty," and surprised her with a display 
 of this new accomplishment, which gratified her so 
 much that she was never tii'ed of seeing Sanch paw 
 the five red letters into place, then come and lay his 
 nose in her hand, as if he added, " That's the name of 
 my dear mistress." 
 
 Of course Bab was glad to have every thing plea3an« 
 and friendly again ; but in a little dark corner of her 
 heart there was a drop of envy, and a desperate desire 
 to do something which would make every one in her 
 small world like and praise her as they did Betty. Try- 
 ing to be as good and gentle did not satisfy her ; she 
 must do something brave or sui'prising, and no chance 
 for distinguishing herself in that way seemed likely to 
 appear. Betty was as fond as ever, and the boys were 
 very kind to her ; but she felt that they both liked " httla 
 Betcinda," as they called her, best, because she found 
 
BOWS AND ARROWS. 219 
 
 S^ch, and never seemed to know thai she had done 
 any thing brave in defending him against all odds. Bab 
 did not tell any one how she felt, but endeavored to be 
 amiable, while waiting for her chance to come ; and, 
 when it did arrive, made the most of it, though there 
 was nothing heroic to add a charm. 
 
 Miss Celia's arm had been doing very well, but would, 
 of course, be useless for some time longer. Finding 
 that the afternoon readings amused herself 'as much as 
 they did the children, she kept them up, and brought 
 out all her old favorites, enjoying a double pleasure in 
 seeing that her young audience relished them as much 
 as she did when a child ; for to all but Thorny they 
 were brand new. Out of one of these stories came 
 much amusement for all, and satisfaction for one of 
 the party. 
 
 *' Celia, did you bring our old bows?" asked her 
 brother, eagerly, as she put down the book from which 
 she had been reading J^liss Edgeworth's capital story 
 of "Waste not Want not; or, Two Strings to your 
 Bow." 
 
 "Yes, I brought all the playthings we left stored 
 away in uncle's garret when we went abroad. The 
 bows are in the long box where you found the mallets, 
 fishing-rods, and bats. The old quivers and a few 
 arrows are there also, I believe. What is the idea 
 now ? " asked Miss Ceha in her turn, as Thorny bounced 
 up in a great hmTy. 
 
 "I'm going to teach Ben to shoot. Grand fun 
 this hot weather ; and by-and-by we '11 have an arch- 
 ery meeting, and you can give us a prize. Coma 
 on, Ben. I've got plenty of whip-cord to rig up the 
 
220 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 bows, and then we'll show the ladies some first-clasa 
 shooting." 
 
 *' / can't ; never had a decent bow in my life. The 
 little gilt one I used to wave round when I was a Coopid 
 wasn't worth a cent to go," answered Ben, feehng as if 
 that painted " prodig}^" must have been a very distant 
 connection of the respectable young person now walk- 
 ing off arm in arm with the lord of the manor. 
 
 '^ Practice is all you want. I used to be a capital 
 shot, but I don't beheve I could hit any thing but a 
 barn-door now," answered Thorny, encouiagingly. 
 
 As the boys vanished, with much tramping of boots 
 and banging of doors, Bab observed, in the young- 
 ladyish tone she was apt to use when she composed 
 her active little mind and body to the feminine task 
 of needlework, — 
 
 *' We used to make bows of whalebone when we were 
 little girls, but we are too old to play so now." 
 
 *' I'd like to, but Bab won't, 'cause she's most 'leven 
 years old," said honest Betty, placidly rubbing her 
 needle in the ' ' ruster," as she called the family emer}^- 
 bag. 
 
 " Grown people enjoy archery, as bow and arrow 
 ghooting is called, especially in England. I was read- 
 hig about it the other day, and saw a picture of Queen 
 Victoria with her bow ; so you needn't be ashamed of 
 it, Bab," said Miss Celia, rummaging among the books 
 and papers in her sofa corner to find the magazine she 
 wanted, thinking a new play would be as good for the 
 girls as for the big boys. 
 
 '* A queen, just think ! " and Betty looked much im- 
 pressed by the fact, as well as uplifted by the knowledge 
 
£OP(rS AND ARROWS. 221 
 
 thul her friend did not agree in tMnking her silly because 
 she preferred playing with a harmless home-made toy 
 to firing stones or snapping a pop-gun. 
 
 " In old times, bows and arrows were used to fight 
 great battles with ; and we read how the English archers 
 shot so weU that the air was dark with aiTows, and 
 many men were killed." 
 
 '' So did the Indians have *em ; and IVe got some 
 stone aiTow-heads, — found 'em by the river, in the 
 dirt ! " cried Bab, waking up, for battles interested her 
 more than queens. 
 
 "While you finish your stints I'U teU you a little 
 story about the Indians," said Miss Celia, lying back on 
 her cushions, while the needles began to go again, for 
 the prospect of a story could not be resisted. 
 
 "A century or more ago, in a small settlement on 
 the banks of the Connecticut, — which means the Long 
 River of Pines, — there lived a little girl called Matty 
 Knburn. On a hill stood the fort where the people ran 
 for protection in any danger, for the country was new 
 and wild, and more than once the Indians had come 
 down the river in their canoes and burned the houses, 
 killed men, and carried away woeaen and children. 
 Matty hved alone with her father, but felt quite safe in 
 the log-house, for he was never far away. One after- 
 noon, as the farmers were all busy in their fields, the 
 bell rang suddenly, — a sign tnat there was dangei 
 near, — and, dropping their rakes or axes, the men 
 hurried to their houses to save wives and babies, and 
 such few treasures as they could. Mr. Kilbum caught 
 up his gun with one hand and his little girl with the 
 other, and ran as fast as he could toward the fort. Bui 
 
222 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 before he could reach it he heard a yell, and saw the 
 red men coming ujd from the river. Then Le kneiv 
 it would be in vain to try to get in, so he looked 
 about for a safe place to hide Matty till he could come 
 for her. He was a brave man, and could fight, so 
 he had no thought of hiding while his neighbors needed 
 help ; but the dear little daughter must be cared for 
 first. 
 
 " In the comer of the lonely pasture which they 
 dared not cross, stood a big hollow elm, and there the 
 farmer hastily hid Matty, dropping her down into the 
 dim nook, round the mouth of which young shoots had 
 grown, so that no one would have suspected any hole 
 was there. 
 
 " ' Lie still, child, till I come ; say your prayers and 
 wait for father,* said the man, as he parted the leaves 
 for a last glance at the small, frightened face looking up 
 at him. 
 
 " ' Come soon,* whispered Matty, and tried to smile 
 bravely, as a stout settler's girl should. 
 
 *'Mr. Knburn went away, and was taken prisoner 
 in the fight, carried off, and for years no one knew 
 whether he was alive or dead. People missed Matty, 
 but supposed she was with her father, and never ex- 
 pected to see her again. A great while afterward the 
 poor man came back, having escaped and made his way 
 through the wilderness to his old home. His first ques- 
 tion was for Matty, but no one had seen her ; and when 
 he told them where he had left her, they shook their 
 heads as if they thought he was crazy. But they went 
 to look, that he might be satisfied ; and he was ; for 
 tiiero they found some little bones, some faded bits of 
 
BOWS AND ARROWS. 223 
 
 cloth, and two rusty silver buckles marked with Matty's 
 name in what had once been her shoes. An Indian 
 arrow lay there, too, showing why she had never cried 
 for help, but waited patiently so long for father to come 
 and find her." 
 
 K Miss Celia expected to see the last bit of hem done 
 when her story ended, she was disappointed ; for not a 
 dozen stitches had been taken. Betty was using her 
 crash towel for a handkerchief, and Bab*s lay on the 
 ground as she hstened with snapping eyes to the little 
 tragedy. 
 
 " Is it true?" asked Betty, hoping to find relief in 
 being told that it was not. 
 
 '' Yes ; I have seen the tree, and the mound where 
 the fort was, and the rusty buckles in an old farm- 
 house where other Kilburns live, near the spot where it 
 all happened," answered Miss Celia, looking out the 
 picture of Victoria to console her auditors. 
 
 "We'll play that in the old apple-tree. Betty can 
 scrooch down, and I '11 be the father, and put leaves on 
 her, and then I '11 be a great Injun and fire at her. I 
 can make arrows, and it will be fim, won't it?" cried 
 Bab, charmed with the new drama in which she could 
 act the leading parts. 
 
 ''No, it won't! I don't like to go in a cobwebby 
 hole, and have you play kill me. I '11 make a nice fort 
 of hay, and be all safe, and you can put Dinah down 
 there for Matty. I don't love her any more, now her 
 last eye has tumbled out, and you may shoot her just as 
 much as you like." 
 
 Before Bab could agree to this satisfactory arrange- 
 ment, Thorny appeared, singing, as he auned at a fa* 
 
224 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 robin, whose red waistcoat looked rather warm and 
 winterish that August day, — 
 
 " So he took np his bow, 
 
 And he feathered his arrow, 
 And said, ' I will shoot 
 This Little cock-sparrow/ " 
 
 ♦' But he didn't," chirped the robin, flying away, 
 with a contemptuous flii*t of his rusty-black tail. 
 
 "That is exactly what you must promise not to do, 
 boys. Fire away at your targets as much as you like, 
 but do not harm any living creature," said Miss CeKa, 
 as Ben followed armed and equipped with her own long- 
 unused accoutrements. 
 
 " Of course we won't if you say so; but, with a 
 little practice, I could bring down a bird as well as that 
 fellow you read to me about with his woodpeckers and 
 larks and herons," answered Thorny, who had much en- 
 joyed the article, while his sister lamented over the 
 destruction of the innocent buxls. 
 
 ''You'd do well to borrow the Squire's old stuffed 
 owl for a target ; there would be some chance of jous 
 hitting him, he is so big," said his sister, who always 
 made fim of the boy when he began to brag. 
 
 Thomy's only reply was to send his arrow straight up 
 so fiar out of sight that it was a long while coming 
 down again to stick quivering in the ground near by, 
 whence Sancho brought it in his mouth, evidently highly 
 approving of a game in which he could join. 
 
 " Not bad for a beginning. Now, Ben, fire away." 
 
 But Ben's experience with bows was small, and, In 
 spite of his praiseworthy efforts to imitate his great ex- 
 
sows AND AUROWS. 225 
 
 emplar, the arrow only turned a feeble sort of somer- 
 sault, and descended perilously near Bab's uplifted 
 nose. 
 
 *'K you endanger other people's life and liberty in 
 your pursuit of happiness, I shall have to confiscate 
 your arms, boys. Take the orchard for your archery 
 ground; that is safe, and we can see you as we sit 
 here. I wish I had two hands, so that I could paint 
 you a fine, gay target;" and Miss Ceha looked re- 
 gretfully at the injured arm, which as yet was of 
 little use. 
 
 " I wish you could shoot, too ; you used to beat all 
 the girls, and I was proud of you," answered Thorny, 
 with the air of a fond elder brother ; though, at the 
 time he alluded to, he was about twelve, and hardly up 
 to his sister's shoulder. 
 
 " Thank you. I shall be happy to give my place to 
 Bab and Betty if you will make them some bows and 
 arrows ; they could not use those long ones." 
 
 The young gentlemen did not take the hint as quickly 
 as Miss Celia hoped they would ; in fact, both looked 
 rather blank at the suggestion, as boys generally do 
 when it is proposed that girls — especially small ones — 
 shall join in any game they are playing. 
 
 " P'r'aps it would be too much trouble," began Betty ^ 
 in her winning little voice. 
 
 " I can make my own," declared Bab, with an inde- 
 pendent toss of the head. 
 
 " Not a bit ; I '11 make you the jolliest small bow that 
 ever was, Betcinda," Thorny hastened to say, softened 
 by the appealing glance of the little maid. 
 
 " You can use mine, Bab ; you 've got such a strong 
 o 
 
226 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 fist, I guess you could pull it," added Ben, remembei- 
 ing that it would not be amiss to have a comrade who 
 shot worse than he did, for he felt ver}^ inferior to Thorny 
 in many ways, and, being used to praise, had missed it 
 very much since he retired to private life. 
 
 " I will be umpire, and brighten up the silver arrow 
 I sometimes pin my hair with, for a prize, unless we 
 can find something better," proposed Miss Ceha, glad 
 to see that question settled, and every prospect of the 
 new play being a pleasant amusement for the hot 
 weather. 
 
 It was astonishing how soon archery became the 
 fashion in that town, for the boys discussed it enthusi 
 asticall}^ all that evening, formed the "William Tell 
 Club " next day, with Bab and Betty as honorary 
 members, and, before the week was out, nearly every 
 lad was seen, like young Nor\^al, '* With bended bow 
 and quiver full of an^ows," shooting away, with a 
 charming disregard of the safety of their fellow-citizens. 
 Banished by the authorities to secluded spots, the mem- 
 bers of the club set up their targets and practised inde- 
 fatigably, especially Ben, who soon discovered that his 
 early gymnastics had given him a sinewy arm and a true 
 eye ; and, taking Sanch into partnership as picker-up, he 
 got more shots out of an hour than those who had to 
 run to and fro. 
 
 Thorny easily recovered much of his former sMU, but 
 his strength had not fully returned, and he soon grew 
 tired. Bab, on the contrary, threw herself into the 
 contvcst heart and soul, and tugged away at the new bow 
 Jili«s Celia gave her, for Ben's was too heavy. No 
 other girU were admitted, so the outsiders got up a 
 
BOWS AND ARROWS. 227 
 
 club of their own, and called it "The Victona," the 
 name being suggested by the magazine article, which 
 went the rounds as a general guide and reference-book. 
 Bab and Betty belonged to this club also, and duly re- 
 ported the doings of the boys, with whom they had a 
 right to shoot if they chose, but soon waived the right, 
 plainly seeing that their absence would be regarded in 
 the light of a favor. 
 
 The archery fever raged as fiercely as the base-ball 
 epidemic had done before it, and not only did the maga- 
 zine circulate freely, but Miss Edgeworth's story, which 
 was eagerly read, and so much admired that the girls at 
 once mounted green ribbons, and the boys kept yards 
 of whip-cord in their pockets like the provident Benja 
 min of the tale. 
 
 Every one enjoyed the new play very much, and 
 something grew out of it which was a lasting pleasure 
 to many, long after the bows and arrows were forgot- 
 ten. Seeing how glad the children were to get a new 
 story, Miss Celia was moved to send a box of books — 
 old and new — to the town library, which was but 
 scantily supplied, as country libraries are apt to be. 
 This donation produced a good effect ; for other people 
 hunted up all the volumes they could spare for the same 
 puipose, and the dusty shelves in the little room behind 
 the post-office filled up amazingly. Coming in vacation 
 time they were hailed with delight, and ancient books 
 of travel, as well as modern tales, were feasted upon 
 ^y happy young folks, with plenty of time to enjoy 
 jhem in peace. 
 
 The success of her first attempt at being a public 
 benefactor pleased Miss Celia very much and suggested 
 
228 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 other ways in which she might serve the quiet town, 
 where she seemed to feel that work was waiting for her 
 to do. She said httle to any one but the friend over 
 the sea, yet various plans were made then that blos- 
 somed beautifully by and by. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 SPEAKING PIECES. 
 
 TIIE first of September came all too soon, and 
 school began. Among the boys and girls who 
 went trooping up to the " East Corner knowledge-box," 
 as they called it, was our friend Ben, with a pile of 
 neat books under his arm. He fblt very strange, and 
 decidedly shy ; but put on a bold face, and let nobody 
 guess that, though nearly thirteen, he had never been 
 to school before. Miss Celia had told his story to 
 Teacher, and she, being a kind little woman, with 
 young brothers of her own, made things as easy for 
 him as she could. In reading and writing he did very 
 well, and proudly took his place among lads of his own 
 age ; but when it came to arithmetic and geography, 
 he had to go down a long way, and begin almost at the 
 beginning, in spite of Thorny's efforts to ' ' tool him 
 along fast." It mortified him sadly, but there was no 
 help for it ; and in some of the classes he had dear httle 
 Betty to condole with him when he failed, and smile 
 contentedly when he got above her, as he soon began 
 to do, — for she was not a quick child, and plodded 
 through First Parts long after sister Bab was flourish- 
 ing away among girls much older than herself. 
 Fortunately, Ben was a short boy and a clever cue, 
 
230 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 BO he did not look out of place among the ten and 
 eleven year olders, and fell upon his lessons with the 
 game resolulion with which he used to take a new leap, 
 or practise patiently till he could touch his heels with 
 his head. That sort of exercise had given him a strong, 
 elastic httle body ; this kind was to train his mind, and 
 make its faculties as useful, quick and sm^e, as the obe- 
 dient muscles, nerves and eye, which kept him safe 
 where others would have broken their necks. He 
 knew this, and found much consolation in the fact that, 
 though mental arithmetic was a hopeless task, he could 
 turn a dozen somersaults, and come up as stead}' as a 
 judge. When the boys laughed at him for saying that 
 China was in Africa, he routed them entirely by his 
 superior knowledge of the animals belonging to that 
 wild country; and when '* First class in reading" was 
 called, he marched up with the proud consciousness 
 that the shortest boy in it did better than tall Moses 
 Towne or fat Sam Kitteridge. 
 
 Teacher praised him all she honestly could, and cor- 
 rected his many blunders so quietly that he soon ceased 
 to be a deep, distressful red during recitation, and 
 tugged away so manfuUy that no one could help respect- 
 ing him for his efforts, and trying to make light of his 
 failures. So the first hard week went by, and though 
 the boy's heart had sunk many a time at the prospect 
 of a protracted wrestle with his own ignorance, he made 
 up his mind to win, and went at it again on the Mon- 
 day with fresh zeal, aU the better and braver for a good, 
 cheery talk with Miss Celia in the Sunday evening twl- 
 Ught. 
 
 He did not tell her one of his greatest trials, how* 
 
SPEAKING PIECES, 231 
 
 ever, because he thought she could not help him there. 
 Some of the children rather looked down upon him, 
 called him '* tramp" and "beggar," twitted him with 
 haying been a circus boy, and lived in a tent like a 
 gypsy. They did not mean to be cruel, but did it for 
 the sake of teasing, never stopping to think how much 
 such sport can make a fellow-creature suffer. Being a 
 plucky fellow, Ben pretended not to mind ; but he did 
 feel it keenly, because he wanted to start afresh, and 
 be like other boys. lie was not ashamed of the old 
 life ; but, finding those around him disapproved of it, 
 he was glad to let it be forgotten, even by himself; 
 for his latest recollections were not happy ones, and 
 present comforts made past hardships seem harder than 
 before. 
 
 He said nothing of this to Miss Celia ; but she found 
 it out, and liked him all the better for keeping some 
 of his small worries to himself. Bab and Betty came 
 over on Monday afternoon full of indignation at some 
 boyish insult Sam had put upon Ben ; and, finding them 
 too full of it to enjoy the reading. Miss Celia asked 
 what the matter was. Then both little girls burst out 
 in a rapid succession of broken exclamations, which did 
 not give a very clear idea of the diiBculty, — 
 
 " Sam didn't like it because Ben jumped farther than 
 he did — " 
 
 *' And he said Ben ought to be in the poor-house." 
 " And Ben said he ought to be in a pigpen." 
 " So he had ! — such a greedy thing, bringing lovely 
 big apples, and not giving any one a single bite ! " 
 
 "Then he was mad, and we all laughed ; and he said; 
 ^Want to fight?'" 
 
232 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 "And Ben said, *No, tJianky, not much fan in 
 pounding a feather-bed/" 
 
 "Oh, he was awfully mad then, and chased Ben up 
 the big maple." 
 
 "He's there now, for Sam won't let him come down 
 till he takes it all back." 
 
 " Ben won't ; and I do believe he'll have to stay up 
 all night," said Betty, distressfully. 
 
 "He won't care, and we'll have fun firing up hia 
 supper. Nut-cakes and cheese will go splendidly ; and 
 may be baked pears wouldn't get smashed, he 's such 
 a good catch," added Bab, decidedly relishing the 
 prospect. 
 
 " K he does not come by tea-time, we will go and 
 look after him. It seems to me I have heard some- 
 thing about Sam's troubhng him before, haven't I?" 
 asked Miss Ceha, ready to defend her protege against 
 all unfair persecution. 
 
 " Yes, 'm, Sam and Mose are always plaguing Ben. 
 They are big boys, and we can't make them stop. I 
 won't let the giiis do it, and the little boys don't dare 
 to, since Teacher spoke to them," answered Bab. 
 
 " Why does not Teacher speak to the big ones?" 
 
 "Ben won't tell of them, or let us. He says he'll 
 fight his own battles, and hates teU- tales. I guess he 
 won't like to have us tell you, but I don't care, for it 
 is too bad ! " and Betty looked ready to cry over her 
 friend's tribulations. 
 
 "I'm glad you did, for I will attend to it, and stop 
 this sort of thing," said Miss Celia, after the children 
 had told some of the tormenting speeches which had 
 tried poor Ben. 
 
SPEAKING PIECES. 233 
 
 Just then Thorny appeared, looking much amused, 
 and the little girls both called out in a breath, "Did 
 you see Ben and get him down?" 
 
 "He got himself down in the neatest way you can 
 Imagine ; " and Thorny laughed at the recollection. 
 
 ""WTiere is Sam?" asked Bab. 
 
 " Staring up at the sky to see where Ben has fioifn 
 to.^ 
 
 " Oh, tell about it ! " begged Betty. 
 
 " Well, I came along and found Ben treed, and Sam 
 stoning him. I stopped that at once, and told the ' fat 
 boy ' to be off. He said he wouldn't till Ben begged 
 his pardon ; and Ben said he wouldn't do it, if he stayed 
 up for a week. I was just preparing to give that rascal 
 a scientific thrashing, when a load of hay came along, 
 and Ben dropped on to it so quietly that Sam, who was 
 trying to bully me, never saw him go. It tickled me 
 so, I told Sam I guessed I 'd let him off that time, and 
 wahved away, lea^dng him to hunt for Ben, and wonder 
 where the dickens he had vanished to." 
 
 The idea of Sam's bewilderment amused the others 
 as much as Thorny, and they all had a good laugh over 
 it before Miss Celia asked, — 
 
 " Where has Ben gone now?" 
 
 "Oh, he'll take a httle ride, and then slip down 
 and race home fuU of the fun of it. But I 've got to 
 settle Sam. I won't have our Ben hectored by any 
 one — " 
 
 "But yourself," put in his sister, with a sly smile, 
 for Thorny was rather domineering at times. 
 
 " He doesn't mind my poking him up now and then, 
 It 's good for him ; and I always take his part against 
 
234 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 otlier people. Sam is a bully, and so is Mose ; and 1 11 
 thrash them both if they don't stop." 
 
 Anxious to curb her brother's pugnacious propen 
 sities, Miss Ceha proposed milder measures, promising 
 to speak to the boys herself if there was any more 
 trouble. 
 
 '' I have been thinking that we should have some 
 sort of merry-making for Ben on his bu'thday. My 
 plan was a very simple one ; but I will enlarge it, and 
 have all the young folks come, and Ben shall be king 
 of the fun. He needs encouragement in well-doing, 
 for he does try ; and now the first hard part> is nearly 
 over, I am sure he will get on bravely. If we treat him 
 with respect, and show our regard for him, others wiE 
 follow our example ; and that will be better than fight- 
 ing about it." 
 
 "So it will ! What shall we do to make our party 
 tip-top ? " asked Thorny, falling into the trap at once ; 
 for he dearly loved to get up theatricals, and had not 
 had any for a long time. 
 
 " "We will plan something splendid, a ' grand com- 
 bination,' as you used to call your droll mixtures of 
 tragedy, comedy, melodrama and farce," answered his 
 Bister, with her head already full of lively plots. 
 
 " We '11 startle the natives. I don't believe they ever 
 saw a play in all their hves, hey, Bab ? " 
 
 " I Ve seen a circus." 
 
 " We di^ess up and do ' Babes in the Wood,' " added 
 Betty, with dignity. 
 
 "Pho! that's nothing. I'll show you acting thaS 
 wiH make your hair stand on end, and you shall act too. 
 Bab will be capital for the naughty gMs," began Thorny, 
 
SPEAKING PIECES. 235 
 
 excited by tlie prospect of producing a sensation on the 
 boards, and always ready to tease the girls. 
 
 Before Betty could protest that she did not want her 
 hair to stand up, or Bab could indignantly decline the 
 role offered her, a shrill whistle was heard, and Miss 
 Celia whispered, with a warning look, — 
 
 * ' Hush ! Ben is coming, and he must not know any 
 thing about this j^et." 
 
 The next day was Wednesday, and in the afternoon 
 JMiss Celia went to hear the children ''speak pieces," 
 though it was very seldom that any of the busy matrons 
 and elder sisters found time or inclination for these dis- 
 plays of 3^outhful oratory. Miss Celia and Mrs. Moss 
 were all the audience on this occasion, but Teacher was 
 both pleased and proud to see them, and a general 
 rustle went through the school as they came in, all tho 
 girls turning from the visitors to nod at Bab and Betty, 
 who smiled all over their round faces to see "Ma" 
 sitting up " ' side of Teacher," and the boys grinned at 
 Ben, whose heart began to beat fast at the thought of 
 his dear mistress coming so far to hear him say his 
 piece. 
 
 Thorny had recommended Marco Bozzaris, but Ben 
 preferred John Gilpin, and ran the famous race with 
 much spirit, making excellent time in some parts and 
 having to be spurred a httle in others, but came out all 
 right, tliough quite breathless at the end, sitting down 
 amid great applause, some of which, cuiiously enough, 
 seemed to come from outside ; which in fact it did, for 
 Thorny was bound to hear but would not come in, lest 
 his presence should abash one orator at least. 
 
 Other pieces followed, &11 more or less patriotic and 
 
236 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 warlike, among the boys ; sentimental among the girls. 
 Sam broke down in his attempt to give one of Webster's 
 great speeches. Little Cy Fay boldly attacked 
 
 " Again to the battle, Achaians ! " 
 
 ttnd shrieked his way through it in a shrill, small voice, 
 bound to do honor to the older brother who had trained 
 him even if he broke a vessel in the attempt. Billy 
 chose a well-worn piece, but gave it a new interest by 
 his st}'le of dehvery ; for his gestm-es were so spasmodic 
 he looked as if going into a fit, and he did such 
 astonishing things with his voice that one never knew 
 whether a howl or a gi'owl would come next. When 
 
 " The woods against a stormy sky 
 Their giant branches tossed ; " 
 
 Bill}^s arms went round like the sails of a windmill ; 
 the "h3TDLns of lofty cheer" not only "shook the 
 depths of the desert gloom," but the small children on 
 their httle benches, and the school-house hteraUy rang 
 " to the anthems of the free ! " 'SMien " the ocean eagle 
 soared," Billy appeared to be going bodily up, and the 
 "pines of the forest roared" as if they had taken 
 lessons of Van Amburgh's biggest lion. "Woman's 
 fearless eye" was expressed by a wild glare; "man- 
 hood's brow, severely high," by a sudden clutch at the 
 reddish locks falling over the orator's hot forehead, and 
 « sounding thump on his blue checked bosom told where 
 * ' the fiery heart of youth " was located. ' ' What sought 
 they thus afar? " he asked, in such a natural and inquir- 
 ing tone, with his eye fixed on Mamie Peters, that the 
 startled innocent replied, " Dunno," which caused the 
 
SPEAKING PIECES. 237 
 
 speaker to close in haste, devoutly pointing a stubby 
 finger upward at the last line. 
 
 This was considered the gem of the collection, and 
 Billy took his seat proudly conscious that his native 
 town boasted an orator who, in time> would utterly 
 echpse Edward Everett and Wendell Pliillips. 
 
 Sally Folsom led off with " The Coral Grove," chosen 
 for the express purpose of making her friend Alroira 
 Mullet start and blush, when she recited the second 
 line of that pleasing poem, 
 
 " Where the purple mullet and gold-fish rove." 
 
 One of the older girls gave Wordsworth's " Lost 
 liOve " in a pensive tone, clasping her hands and bring- 
 ing out the " O " as if a sudden twinge of toothache 
 seized her when she ended. 
 
 " But she is m her grave, and O, 
 The difference to me ! " 
 
 Bab always chose a funny piece, and on this after- 
 noon set them aU laughing by the spirit with which she 
 spoke the droll poem, " Pussj^s Class," which some of 
 my young readers may have read. The "meou" and 
 the " sptzzs" were capital, and when the " fond mam- 
 ma rubbed her nose," the childi'cn shouted, for Miss 
 Bab made a paw of her hand and ended with an im- 
 promptu purr, which was considered the best imitation 
 ever presented to an appreciative public. Betty bash- 
 fully mmTQured " Little White Lily," swajdng to and 
 fro as regularly as if in no other way could the rhjTnes 
 be ground out of her memory. 
 
 **That is all, I beheve. If either of the ladies 
 
238 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 would like to say a few words to the children, 1 should 
 be pleased to have them," said Teacher, politely, paus- 
 ing before she dismissed school with a song. 
 
 " Please, 'm, I 'd like to speak my piece," answered 
 Miss Celia, obejing a sudden impulse ; and, stepi^ing 
 forward with her hat in her hand, she made a pretty 
 courtesy before she recited Mary Howitt's sweet little 
 ballad, " Mabel on Midsummer Day." 
 
 She looked so young and merry, and used such simple 
 but expressive gestures, and spoke in such a clear, soft 
 voice that the children sat as if spell-bound, learning 
 several lessons from this new teacher, whose perfoim- 
 ance charmed them from beginning to end, and left a 
 moral which all could understand and carry away in that 
 last verse, — 
 
 •" 'T is good to make all duty sweet 
 To be alert and kind ; 
 *T is good, like Little Mabel, 
 To hare a willing mind." 
 
 Of course there was an enthusiastic clapping when 
 Miss Ceha sat down, but even while hands applauded, 
 consciences pricked, and undone tasks, complaining 
 words and sour faces seemed to rise up reproachfully 
 before many of the childi'en, as well as their own faults 
 of elocution. 
 
 '* Now we will sing," said Teacher, and a great clear- 
 ing of throats ensued, but before a note could be uttered, 
 the half-open door swung wide, and Sancho, with Ben's 
 hat on, walked in upon his hind legs, and stood with 
 his paws meekly folded, while a voice from the entry 
 sang rapidly, — 
 
SPEAKINCx PIECES. 239 
 
 * Benny had a little dog, 
 
 His fleece was white as snow, 
 ^ And everywhere that Benny went, 
 
 The dog was sure to go. 
 " He went into the school one day, 
 Which was against the rule ; 
 It made the children laugh and play 
 To see a dog ■— " 
 
 Mischievous Thorny got no further, for a general 
 explosion of laughter drowned the last words, and Ben's 
 command " Out, you rascal ! " sent Sanch to the right- 
 about in double-quick time. 
 
 Miss Celia tried to apologize for her bad brother, and 
 Teacher tried to assure her that it didn't matter in the 
 least, as this was always a merry time, and Mrs. Moss 
 vainly shook her finger at her naughty daughters ; they 
 as well as the others would have their laugh out, and 
 only partially sobered down when the bell rang for 
 *' Attention." They thought they were to be dismissed, 
 and repressed their giggles as well as they could in 
 order to get a good start for a vociferous roar when 
 they got out. But, to their gi-eat surprise, the pretty 
 lady stood up again and said, in her fiiendly way, — 
 
 *' I just want to thank you for this pleasant little ex- 
 hibition, and ask leave to come again. I also wish to 
 invite you all to my boy*s birthday party on Saturday 
 week. The archery meeting is to be in the afternoon, 
 and both clubs will be there, I beheve- In the evening 
 we are going to have some fim, when we can laugh aa 
 much as we please without breaking any of the rules. 
 In Ben's name I invite you, and hope you will all come, 
 for we mean to make this the happiest birthday he 
 ever had." 
 
240 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 There were twenty pupils in the room, but the eighty 
 hands and feet made such a racket at this announce- 
 ment that an outsider would haye thought a hundred 
 children, at least, must have been at it. Miss Celia 
 was a general favorite because she nodded to aU the 
 girls, called the boys by their last names, even address- 
 ing some of the largest as *' Mr. ," which won their hearts 
 at once, so that if she had invited them aU to come 
 and be whipped they would have gone, sui-e that it was 
 some delightful joke. With what eagerness they 
 accepted the present invitation one can easily imagine) 
 though they never guessed why she gave it in that way, 
 and Ben's face was a sight to see, he was so pleased 
 and proud at the honor done him that he did not know 
 where to look, and was glad to rush out with the other 
 boys and vent his emotions in whoops of delight. He 
 knew that some little plot was being concocted for his 
 birthday, but never di'eamed of any thing so grand as 
 asking the whole school. Teacher and all. The effect 
 of the invitation was seen with comical rapidity, for the 
 boys became overpowering in theu' friendly attentions 
 to Ben. Even Sam, fearing he might be left out, 
 promptly offered the peaceful olive-branch in the shape 
 of a big apple, warm from his pocket, and Mose pro- 
 posed a trade of jack-knives which would be greatly to 
 Ben's advantage. But Thorny made the noblest sacri- 
 fice of all, for he said to his sister, as they walked home 
 together, — 
 
 " I ^m not going to try ft>r the prize at aU. I shoot 
 BO much better than the rest, having had more practice, 
 you know, that it is hardly fair. Ben and Billy are 
 nest best, and about even, for Ben's strong wrist makes 
 
SPEAKING PIECES. 241 
 
 up for Bi%'s true eye, and both want to win. If I am 
 out of the way Ben stands a good chance, for the other 
 fellows don't amount to much." 
 
 "Bab does; she shoots nearly as well as Ben, and 
 wants to win eveh more than he or Billy. She must 
 have her chance at any rate." 
 
 " So she may, but she won't do any thing ; girls 
 can't, though it's good exercise and pleases them to 
 try." 
 
 " If I had full use of both my arms I'd show you 
 that gu'ls ca?i do a great deal when they like. Don't 
 be too lofty, young man, for you may have to come 
 down," laughed Miss Celia, amused by his airs. 
 
 " No fear," and Thorny calmly departed to set his 
 targets for Ben's practice. 
 
 "We shall see," and from that moment Miss Celia 
 made Bab her especial pupil, feeling that a httle lesson 
 would be good for Mr. Thorny, who rather lorded it 
 over the other young people. There was a spice of 
 mischief in it, for Miss Celia was very j^oung at heart, 
 in spite of her twenty-four years, and she was bound to 
 see that her side had a fair chance, beheving that girls 
 can do whatever they are willing to strive patiently and 
 wisely for. 
 
 So she kept Bab at work early and late, gi^'ing her 
 all the hints and help she could with only one efficient 
 hand, and Bab was delighted to think she did weU 
 enough to shoot with the club. Her arms ached and 
 her fingers grew hard with twanging the bow, but she 
 was indefatigable, and being a strong, tall child of her 
 age, with a gi-eat love of all athletic sports, she got on 
 fast and well, soon learning to send arrow after aiTOW 
 11 p 
 
242 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 with ever increasing accuracy nearer and nearer to the 
 
 buirs-e3^e. 
 
 The boys took very little notice of her, being much 
 absorbed in their own affairs, but Betty did for Bab 
 what Sancho did for Ben, and trotted after arrows till 
 her short legs were sadly tired, though her patience 
 never gave out. She was so sure Bab would win that 
 she cared nothing about her own success, practising 
 little and seldom hitting any thing when she tried. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 BEN'S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 A SUPERB display of flags flapped gayly in the 
 breeze on the September morning when Ben 
 proudly entered his teens. An irruption of bunting 
 seemed to have broken out all over the old house, for 
 banners of every shape and size, color and design, flew 
 from chimney- top to gable, porch and gate-way, making 
 the quiet place look as lively as a circus tent, which 
 was just what Ben most desired and delighted in. 
 
 The boys had been up very early to prepare the show, 
 and when it was ready enjoyed it hugely, for the fresh 
 wind made the pennons cut strange capers. The winged 
 lion of Venice looked as if trying to fly away home ; 
 the Chinese dragon appeared to brandish his forked 
 tail as he clawed at the BiuTuese peacock ; the double- 
 headed eagle of Russia pecked at the Turkish crescen'V 
 with one beak, while the other seemed to be screaming 
 to the English royal beast, " Come on and lend a paw.^ 
 In the hurry of hoistings the Siamese elephant got 
 turned upside down, and now danced gayly on his head, 
 with the stars and stripes waving proudly over him. A 
 green flag with a yellow harp and sprig of shamrock 
 hung in sight of the kitchen window, and Katy, the 
 cook, got breakfast to the tune of " St. Patrick's day 
 
244 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 in the morning." Sancho's kennel was half hidden 
 under a rustling paper imitation of the gorgeous Span- 
 ish banner, and the scarlet sun-and-moon flag of Arabia 
 snapped and flaunted from the pole over the coach- 
 house, as a delicate compliment to Lita, Arabian horses 
 being considered the finest in the world. 
 
 The little girls came out to see, and declared it waa 
 the lovehest sight they ever beheld, while Thorny played 
 "Hail Columbia" on his fife, and Ben, mounting tbe 
 gate-post, crowed long and loud like a happy cockerel 
 who had just reached his majority. He had been sur- 
 prised and delighted with the gifts he found in his room 
 on awaking, and guessed why Miss Celia and Thorny 
 gave him such pretty things, for among them was a 
 match-box made like a mouse-trap. The doggy buttons 
 and the horsey whip were treasures indeed, for ^lisa 
 Ceha had not given them when they first planned to do 
 so, because Sancho's return seemed to be joy and re- 
 ward enough for that occasion. But he did not forget 
 to thank Mrs. Moss for the cake she sent him, nor the 
 girls for the red mittens which they had secretly and 
 pamfully knit. Bab's was long and thin, with a very 
 pointed thumb, Bettj^s short and wide, with a stubby 
 iiumb, and all their mother's pulling and pressing could 
 !\ot make them look alike, to the gi-eat affliction of the 
 little knitters. Ben, however, assm-ed them that he 
 rather prefeiTcd odd ones, as then he could always tell 
 which was right and which left. He put them on im- 
 mediately and went about cracking the new whip with an 
 expression of content which was di'oll to see, while the 
 childi'en followed after, full of admiration for the hero 
 of the day. 
 
BEN'S BIRTHDAY. 245 
 
 They were very busy all the morning preparing for 
 the festivities to come, and as soon as dinner was oyer 
 every one scrambled into his or her best clothes as fast 
 as possible, because, although invited to come at two, 
 impatient boys and gh'ls were seen hovering about the 
 avenue as early as one. 
 
 The first to arrive, however, was an uninvited guest, 
 for just as Bab and Betty sat down on the porch 
 steps. In their stiff pink cahco frocks and white ruffled 
 aprons, to repose a moment before the party came in, 
 a rustling was heard among the lilacs and out stepped 
 Alfred Tennyson Barlow, looking like a small Robin 
 Hood, in a green blouse with a silver buckle on hia 
 broad belt, a feather in his little cap and a bow in his 
 hand. 
 
 " I have come to shoot. I heard about it. My papa 
 told me what arching meant. Will there be any Kttle 
 cakes? I like them." 
 
 With these opening remarks the poet took a seat and 
 calmly awaited a response. The young ladies, I regret 
 to say, giggled, then remembering their manners, hast- 
 ened to inform him that there would be heaps of cakes, 
 also that Miss Celia would not mind his coming without 
 ftn invitation, they were quite sure. 
 
 '' She asked me to come that day. I have been very 
 busy. I had measles. Do you have them here?" 
 asked the guest, as if anxious to compare notes on the 
 sad subject. 
 
 *'We had ours ever so long ago. What have yoa 
 been doing besides having measles ? " said Betty, show- 
 ing a polite interest. 
 
 *' I had a fight with a bumble-bee." 
 
246 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 *' T\Tio beat? " demanded Bab. 
 
 *' I did. I ran away and lie couldn't catch me.** 
 
 " Can you shoot nicel}^? " 
 
 " I hit a cow. She did not mind at all. I guess she 
 thought it wad a fly." 
 
 " Did your mother know you were coming?" asked 
 Bab, feeling an interest in runaways. 
 
 " Xo ; she is gone to diive, so I could not ask her." 
 
 "It is veiy wi'ong to disobey. My Sunday-school 
 book says that childi-en who are naughty that way never 
 go to heayen," observed viiluous Betty, in a warning 
 tone. 
 
 " I do not wish to go," was the startling reply. 
 
 " Why not?" asked Betty, severely. 
 
 " They don't have any dii't there. My mamma says 
 so. I am fond of diil. I shall stay here where thera 
 is plenty of it," and the candid youth began to gi'ub in 
 the mould with the satisfaction of a genuine boy. 
 
 " I am afraid you're a very bad child." 
 
 " Oh yes, I am. My papa often says so and he 
 knows all about it," replied Alfred with an involuntary 
 wriggle suggestive of painful memories. Then, as if 
 anxious to change the conversation from its somewhat 
 personal channel, he asked, pointing to a row of grin- 
 mug heads above the wall, ' ' Do you shoot at those ? " 
 
 Bab and Betty looked up quickly and recognized the 
 familiar faces of theu' friends peering down at them, 
 like a choice collection of trophies or targets. 
 
 " I should think you'd be ashamed to peek before the 
 party was ready ! " cried Bab, frowning darkly upon the 
 merry young ladies. 
 
 *' Miss Celia told us to come before two, and be readj 
 
BEN'S BIRTHDAY. 247 
 
 to receive folks, if she wasn't down," added Betty, im- 
 portantly. 
 
 "It is striking two now. Come along, girls;" and 
 over scrambled Sally Folsom, followed by three or foiu 
 kindred spirits, just as their hostess appeared. 
 
 '' You look like Amazons storming a fort," she said, 
 as the girls came up, each carrying her bow and arrows, 
 while green ribbons flew in every direction. '' How do 
 you do, sir? I have been hoping you would call 
 again," added Miss Celia, shaking hands with the 
 pretty boy, who regarded with benign interest the 
 giver of httle cakes. 
 
 Here a rush of boys took place, and further remarks 
 were cut short, for every one was in a hurry to begin. 
 So the procession was formed at once, Miss Ceha taking 
 the lead, escorted by Ben in the post of honor, while 
 the boys and giiis paired ofl" behind, arm in arm, bow 
 on shoulder, in martial array. Thorny and Billy were 
 the band, and marched before, fifing and drumming 
 " Yankee Doodle" with a vigor which kept feet moving 
 briskly, made eyes sparkle, and young hearts dance 
 under the gay gowns and summer jackets. The inter- 
 esting stranger was elected to bear the prize, laid out 
 on a red pin-cushion ; and did so with great dignity, 
 as he went beside the standard-bearer, Cy Fay, who 
 bore Ben's choicest flag, snow-white, with a green wreath 
 surrounding a painted bow and arrow, and with the 
 letters W. T. C. done in red below. 
 
 Such a merry march all about the place, out at the 
 Lodge gate, up and down the avenue, along the winding 
 paths, till they halted in the orchard, where the target 
 stood, and seats were placed for the archers while they 
 
248 UNDER THE LiLACS. 
 
 waited for their turns. Various rules and legulations 
 w^ere discussed, and then the fun began. Miss Celia 
 !iad insisted that the girls should be invited to shoot 
 Tsvith the bojs ; and the lads consented without much 
 ooncern, whispering to one another with condescending 
 shrugs, "Let 'em try, if they like; they can't do any 
 thing." 
 
 There were various trials of skill before the great 
 mat'Ch came off, and in these trials the young gentlemen 
 discovered that two at least of the guis could do some- 
 thing ; for Bab and Sally shot better than many of the 
 boys, and were well rewarded for their exertions by the 
 change which took place in the faces and conversation 
 of their mates. 
 
 "Why, Bab, you do as well as if I'd taught you 
 mj'self," said Thorny, much surprised and not alto- 
 gether pleased at the little gM's skill. 
 
 " A lady taught me ; and I mean to beat every one 
 of you," answered Bab, saucily, while her sparkling 
 eyes turned to Miss Celia with a mischievous twinkle 
 in them. 
 
 " Not a bit of it," declared Thorny, stoutly ; but he 
 w^ni to Ben and whispered, " Do your best, old fellow, 
 for sister has taught Bab all the scientific points, and 
 the little rascal is ahead of Billy." 
 
 " She won't get ahead of me," said Ben, picking out 
 his best arrow, and trjing the string of his bow with a 
 confident air which re-assured Thorny, who found it 
 impossible to believe that a gu'l ever could, would, or 
 should excel a boy in any thing he cared to try. 
 
 It really did look as if Bab would beat when the 
 match for the prize came off ; and the chUdi^en got more 
 
BEN'S BIRTHDAY. 245? 
 
 and more excited as the six who were to try for it took 
 turns at the bull's-eye. Thorny was umpire, and kept 
 account of each shot, for the arrow which went nearest 
 the middle would win. Each had three shots ; and very 
 soon the lookers-on saw that Ben and Bab were the 
 best marksmen, and one of them would surely get the 
 silver arrow. 
 
 Sam, who was too lazy to practise, soon gave up the 
 contest, saying, as Thorny did, "It wouldn't be fair 
 for such a big fellow to try with the little chaps," which 
 made a laugh, as his want of skill was painfully evident. 
 But Mose went at it gallantly ; and, if his eye had been 
 as true as his arms were strong, the "little chaps" 
 would have trembled. But his shots were none of them 
 as near as Billjr's ; and he retired after the third failure, 
 declaring that it was impossible to shoot against the 
 wind, though scarcely a breath was stirring. 
 
 Sally Folsom was bound to beat Bab, and twanged 
 away in great style ; all in vain, however, as with tall 
 Maria Newcome, the third girl who attempted the trial. 
 Being a httle near-sighted, she had borrowed her sister's 
 eye-glasses, and thereby lessened her chance of suc- 
 cess ; for the pinch on her nose distracted her attention, 
 and not one of her arrows went beyond the second ring, 
 to her great disappointment. Billy did very well, but 
 got nervous when his last shot came, and just missed 
 the bull's-eye by being in a hurry. 
 
 Bab and Ben each had one turn more ; and, as they 
 were about even, that last arrow would decide the vic- 
 tory. Both had sent a shot into the bull's-eye. but 
 neither was exactly in the middle ; so there was room 
 to do better, even, and the children crowded round, 
 
 n* 
 
250 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 crying eagerly, '' Now, Ben ! " "- Now, Bab ! " "Hit 
 her up, Ben ! " " Beat him, Bab ! " while Thorny looked 
 as anxious as if the fate of the country depended on 
 the success of his man. Bab's turn came first ; and, as 
 Miss Ceha examined her bow to see that all was right, 
 the little girl said, with her eyes on her rival's excited 
 face, — 
 
 '' I want to beat, but Ben will feel so bad, I 'most 
 hope I sha'n't." 
 
 ''Losing a prize sometimes makes one happier than 
 gaining it. You have proved that you could do better 
 than most of them ; so, if you do not beat, you may 
 still feel proud," answered IVIiss Celia, giving back the 
 bow with a smile that said more than her words. 
 
 It seemed to give Bab a new idea, for in a minute 
 all sorts of recollections, wishes, and plans rushed 
 through her hvely little mind, and she followed a 
 sudden generous impulse as blindly as she often did 
 a wilful one. 
 
 "I guess he'll beat," she said, softly, with a quick 
 sparkle of the eyes, as she stepped to her place and fired 
 without taking her usual careful aim. 
 
 Her shot struck almost as near the centre on the right 
 as her last one had hit on the left ; and there was a shout 
 of delight from the girls as Thorny announced it before 
 tie hurried back to Ben, whispering anxiously, — 
 
 " Steady, old man, steady ; you must beat that, oi 
 we shall never hear the last of it." 
 
 Ben did not say, " She won't get ahead of me," as 
 he had said at the first ; he set his teeth, threw off his 
 hat, and, knitting his brows with a resolute expression, 
 prepared to take steady aim, though his heart beat fast 
 
BEN'S BIRTHDAY. 26] 
 
 and Ms thumb trembled as he pressed it on the bow- 
 string. 
 
 *'I hope you'll beat, I truly do," said Bab, at his 
 elbow ; and, as if the breath that framed the generous 
 wish helped it on its way, the arrow flew straight to the 
 bull's-eye, hitting, apparently, the very spot where Bab'a 
 best shot had left a hole. 
 
 "A tie! a tie!" cried the girls, as a general rush 
 took place toward the target. 
 
 ** No, Ben's is nearest. Ben's beat! Hooray!** 
 shouted the boys throwing up their hats. 
 
 There was only a hair's-breadth difference, and Bab 
 could honestly have disputed the decision ; but she did 
 not, though for an instant she could not help wishing 
 that the cry had been ''Bab's beat! Hun-ah!" it 
 sounded so pleasant. Then she saw Ben's beaming 
 face, Thomy's intense reUef, and caught the look IVIiss 
 Celia sent her over the heads of the boys, and decided, 
 with a sudden warm glow all over her little face, that 
 losing a prize did sometimes make one happier than 
 winning it. Up went her best hat, and she burst out 
 in a shrill, "Rah, rah, rah!" that sounded very 
 fimny coming all alone after the general clamor had 
 subsided. 
 
 '' Good for you, Bab I you are an honor to the club, 
 and I'm proud of you," said Prince Thorny, with » 
 hearty hand-shake ; for, as his man had won, he could 
 afford to praise the rival who had put him on his mettle, 
 though she was a girl. 
 
 Bab was much uplifted by the royal commendation, 
 but a few minutes later felt pleased as well as proud 
 when Ben, having received the prize, came to her, aa 
 
:252 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 she stood behind a tree sucking her blistered thumb, 
 while Betty braided up her dishevelled locks. 
 
 *' I think it would be fairer to call it a tie, Bab, foi 
 it really was, and I want you to wear this. I wanted 
 the fim of beating, but I don't care a bit for this gii-l's 
 tiling, and I 'd rather see it on you." 
 
 As he spoke, Ben offered the rosette of green ribbon 
 which held the silver arrow, and Bab's eyes brightened 
 as they fell upon the pretty ornament, for to her " the 
 girl's thing " was almost as good as the victory. 
 
 " Oh no ; you must wear it to show who won. Miss 
 Celia wouldn't like it. I don't mind not getting it ; I 
 did better than all the rest, and I guess I shouldn't like 
 to beat you" answered Bab, unconsciously putting into 
 childish words the sweet generosity which makes so 
 many sisters glad to see their brothers carry off the 
 prizes of Hfe, while they are content to know that they 
 have earned them and can do without the praise. 
 
 But if Bab was generous, Ben was just ; and though 
 he could not explain the feehng, would not consent to 
 take all the glory without giving his little friend a share. 
 
 "You must wear it; I shaU feel real mean if you 
 don't. You worked harder than I did, and it was only 
 luck my getting this. Do, Bab, to please me," he per- 
 sisted, awkwardly trying to fasten the ornament in the 
 middle of Bab's white apron. 
 
 '' Then I will. Now do you forgive me for losing 
 Sancho?" asked Bab, with a wistful look which made 
 Ben say, heartily, — 
 
 " I did that when he came home." 
 
 " And you don't think I 'm horrid? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it ; you are first-rate, and I 'U stand 
 
BEN'S BIRTHDAY. 253 
 
 by you like a man, for you are 'most as good as a boy I ' 
 cried Ben, anxious to deal handsomely with his feminine 
 rival, whose skill had raised her immensely in his 
 opinion. 
 
 Feeling that he could not improve that last compli- 
 ment, Bab was fully satisfied, and let him leave the 
 prize upon her breast, conscious that she had some 
 claim to it. 
 
 *' That is where it should be, and Ben is a true 
 knight, winning the prize that he may give it to his 
 lady, while he is content with the victory," said Miss 
 Celia, laughingly, to Teacher, as the children ran off 
 to join in the riotous games which soon made the or- 
 chard ring. 
 
 *' He learned that at the circus ' tunnyments,* as he 
 calls them. He is a nice boy, and I am much in- 
 terested in him ; for he has the two things that do most 
 toward making a man, patience and courage," answered 
 Teacher, smiling also as she watched the young knight 
 play leap-frog, and the honored lady tearing about in a 
 game of tag. 
 
 " Bab is a nice child, too," said Miss Celia ; " she is 
 as quick as a flash to catch an idea and carry it out, 
 though very often the ideas are wild ones. She could 
 have won just now, I fancy, if she had tried, but took 
 the notion into her head that it was nobler to let Ben 
 win, and so atone for the trouble she gave him in losing 
 the dog. I saw a very sweet look on her face just now, 
 and am sure that Ben will never know why he beat." 
 
 '' She does such things at f%«3hool sometimes, and I 
 can't bear to spoil her little atonements, though they 
 are not always needed or very wise," answered Teacher. 
 
254 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 ** Not long ago I found that she had been giving her 
 lunch day after day to a poor child who seldom had any, 
 and when I asked her why, she said, with tears, ' I 
 flsed to laugh at Abby, because she had only crusty, 
 dry bread, and so she wouldn't bring any. I ought to 
 give her mine and be hungry, it was so mean to make 
 fim of her poorness." 
 
 " Did you stop the sacrifice?" 
 
 " No ; I let Bab ' go halves,' and added an extra bit 
 to my own lunch, so I could make my contribution 
 likewise." 
 
 " Come and tell me about Abby. I want to make 
 friends with our poor people, for soon I' shall have a 
 right to help them ; " and, putting her arm in Teacher's, 
 Miss Ceha led her away for a quiet chat in the porch, 
 making her guest's visit a happy holiday by confiding 
 several plans and asking advice in the friendliest way. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE. 
 
 A PICNIC supper on the grass followed the games, 
 and then, as twilight began to fall, the young 
 people were marshalled to the coach-house, now trans- 
 formed into a rustic theatre. One big door was open, 
 and seats, arranged lengthwise, faced the red table-cloths 
 which formed the curtain. A row of lamps made very 
 good foot-lights, and an invisible band performed a 
 Wagner-hke overture on combs, tin trumpets, drums, 
 and pipes, with an accompaniment of suppressed 
 laughter. 
 
 Many of the children had never seen any thing like 
 it, and sat staring about them in mute admiration and 
 expectancy; but the older ones criticised freely, and 
 mdulged in wild speculations as to the meaning of 
 various convulsions of nature going on behind the 
 curtain. 
 
 While Teacher was dressing the actresses for the 
 tragedy, Bliss Celia and Thorny, who were old hands 
 at this sort of amusement, gave a " Potato" pantomime 
 as a side show. 
 
 Across an empty stall a green cloth was fastened, so 
 high that the heads of the operators were not seen. A 
 little ciui:ain flew up, disclosing the front of a Chinese 
 
256 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 pagoda painted on pasteboard, with a door and windoTV 
 which opened quite naturally. This stood on one side, 
 several green trees with paper lanterns hanging from 
 the boughs were on the other side, and the words " Tea 
 Garden," printed over the top, showed the nature of 
 this charming spot. 
 
 Few of the children had ever seen the immoilal 
 Punch and Judy, so this was a most agreeable novelty, 
 and before they could make out what it meant, a 
 voice began to sing, so distinctly that every word was 
 heard, — 
 
 " In China there lived a little man, 
 His name was Chingery "Wangery Chan." 
 
 Here the hero *' took the stage " with great dignity, 
 clad in a loose yellow jacket over a blue skirt, which 
 concealed the hand that made his body. A pointed 
 hat adorned his head, and on removing this to bow he 
 disclosed a bald pate with a black queue in the middle, 
 and a Chinese face nicely painted on the potato, the 
 lower part of which was hollowed out to fit Thorny'a 
 first finger, while his thumb and second finger were in 
 the sleeves of the yellow jacket, making a lively pair of 
 arms. While he saluted, the song went on, — 
 
 " His legs were short, his feet were small, 
 And this little man could not walk at ah." 
 
 Which assertion was proved to be false by the agility 
 with which the '^ little man" danced a jig in time to 
 the rollicking chorus, — 
 
 " Chingery changery ri co day, 
 Ekel tekel happy man ; 
 Uron odesko canty oh, oh, 
 GaUopy wallopy China go.** 
 
CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE. 257 
 
 At the close of the dance and chorus, Chan retired 
 into the tea garden, and drank so many cups of the 
 national beverage, with such comic gestures, that the 
 spectators were almost sorry when the opening of 
 the opposite window drew all eyes in that direction. 
 At the lattice appeared a lovely being ; for this potato 
 had been pared, and on the white surface were painted 
 pretty pink cheeks, red lips, black eyes, and oblique 
 brows ; through the tuft of dark silk on the head were 
 stuck several glittering pins, and a pink jacket shrouded 
 the plump figure of this capital little Chinese lady. 
 After peeping coyly out, so that all could see and ad- 
 mire, she fell to counting the money from a purse, 
 so large her small hands could hardly hold it on the 
 window seat. While she did this, the song went on to 
 explain, — 
 
 " Miss Ki Hi was short and squat, 
 She had money and he had not ; 
 So off to her he resolved to go, 
 And play her a tune on his little banjo." 
 
 During the chorus to this verse Chan was seen tun- 
 ing his instrument in the garden, and at the end 
 sallied gallantly forth to sing the following tendei 
 strain, — 
 
 "Whang fun li. 
 
 Tang hua ki, 
 Hong Kong do ra me ! 
 
 Ah sin lo, 
 
 Pan to f o, 
 Tsing up chin leute ! ** 
 
 Carried away by his passion, Chan dropped his 
 banjo, fell upon his knees, and, clasping his hands, 
 
258 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 bowed his forehead m the dust before his idoL But, 
 
 alas! — 
 
 " Miss Ki Hi heard his notes of love. 
 And held her wash-bowl up above ; 
 It fell upon the little man, 
 And this was the end of Chingery Chan.** 
 
 Indeed it was ; for, as the doU's basin of real water 
 was east forth by the cruel charmer, poor Chan expired 
 in such strong convulsions that his head rolled down 
 among the audience. Miss Ki Hi peeped to see what 
 had become of her victim, and the shutter decapitated 
 her likewise, to the great delight' of the children, who 
 passed around the heads, pronouncing a "Potato" pan- 
 tomime " first-rate fun." 
 
 Then they settled themselves for the show, having 
 been assured by Manager Thorny that they were about 
 to behold the most elegant and varied combination ever 
 produced on any stage. And when one reads the fol- 
 lowing very inadequate description of the somewhat 
 mixed entertainment, it is impossible to deny that the 
 promise made was nobly kept. 
 
 After some delay and several crashes behind the 
 curtain, which mightily amused the audience, the per- 
 foimance began with the well-known tragedy of " Blue- 
 beard ; " for Bab had set her heart upon it, and the 
 young folks had acted it so often in their plays that 
 it was very easy to get up, with a few extra touches 
 to scenery and costumes. Thorny was superb as the 
 tyrant with a beard of bright blue worsted, a slouched 
 hat and long feather, for cloak, red hose, rubber boots, 
 and a real sword which clanked tragically as he walked. 
 He spoke in such a deep voice, knit his corked eye- 
 
CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE. 259 
 
 brows, and glared so frightfully, that it was no w<:»nder 
 poor Fatima quaked before him as he gave into her 
 keeping an immense bunch of keys with one particularly 
 big, bright one, among them. 
 
 Bab was fine to see, with Miss Celia's blue dress 
 sweeping behind her, a white plume in her flowing hair, 
 and a real necklace with a pearl locket about her neck. 
 She did her part capitally, especially the shriek she 
 gave when she looked into the fatal closet, the energy 
 with which she scrubbed the tell-tale key, and her dis- 
 tracte' tone when she called out: "Sister Anne, O, 
 sister Anne, do you see anybody coming ? " while her 
 enraged husband was roaring : '' Will you come down, 
 madam, or shall I come and fetch you ? " 
 
 Betty made a captivating Anne, — all in white mus 
 lin, and a hat full of such lovely pink roses that she 
 could not help putting up one hand to feel them as she 
 stood on the steps looking out at the little window for 
 the approaching brothers, who made such a din that it 
 sounded like a dozen horsemen instead of two. 
 
 Ben and Billy were got up regardless of expense in 
 the way of arms ; for their belts were perfect arsenals, 
 and their wooden swords were big enough to strike ter- 
 ror into any soul, though they struck no sparks out of 
 Blue-beard's blade in the awful combat which preceded 
 the villain's downfall and death. 
 
 The boys enjoyed this part intensely, and cries of 
 ''Go it, Ben!" " Hit him again, Billy ! '' " Two against 
 one isn't fair ! " " Thorny 's a match for 'em." *' Now 
 he 's down, hurray ! " cheered on the combatants, till, 
 after a terrific struggle, the tyrant fell, and with con- 
 vulsive t"witchings of the scarlet legs, slowly expired j 
 
260 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 while the ladies sociably fainted in each other's amis, 
 and the brothers waved their swords and shook hands 
 over the corse of their enemy. 
 
 This piece was rapturously applauded, and all the 
 performers had to appear and bow their thanks, led by 
 the defunct Blue-beard, who mildly warned the excited 
 audience that if they " didn't look out the seats would 
 break down, and then there 'd be a nice mess." Calmed 
 by this fear they composed themselves, and waited with 
 ardor for the next play, which promised to be a lively 
 one, judging from the shi'ieks of laughter which came 
 from behind the curtain. 
 
 '' Sanch's going to be in it, I know ; for I heard Ben 
 say, ' Hold him still ; he won't bite,' " whispered Sam, 
 longing to "jounce" up and down, so great was his 
 satisfaction at the prospect, for the dog was considered 
 the star of the company. 
 
 "I hope Bab wiE do something else, she is so funny. 
 Wasn't her dress elegant?" said Sally Folsom, burning 
 to wear a long silk gown and a feather in her hair. 
 
 '* I like Betty best, she 's so cunning, and she peeked 
 out of the window just as if she really saw somebody 
 c-oming," answered Liddy Peckham, privately resolving 
 to tease mother for some pink roses before another Sun- 
 day came. 
 
 Up went the curtain at last, and a voice announced 
 *^ A Tragedy in Three Tableaux." '' There 's Betty ! " 
 was the general exclamation, as the audience recognized 
 a familiar face under the little red hood worn by the 
 child who stood receiving a basket from Teacher, who 
 made a nice mother with her finger up, as if telling the 
 small messenger not to loiter by the way. 
 
CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE. 261 
 
 " I know what that is I " cried Sally ; " it 's ' Mabel 
 on Midsummer Day.* The piece Miss Celia spoke; 
 don't you know ? " 
 
 " There isn't any sick baby, and Mabel had a ' ker- 
 chief pinned about her head.* / say it 's Red Riding 
 Hood," answered Liddy, who had begun to learn Mary 
 Howitf s pretty poem for her next piece, and knew 
 all about it. 
 
 The question was settled by the appearance of the 
 wolf in the second scene, and such a wolf! On few 
 amateur stages do we find so natural an actor for that 
 part, or so good a costxmie, for Sanch was irresistibly 
 droU in the gray wolf-skin which usually lay beside Miss 
 Celia's bed, now fitted over his back and fastened neatly 
 down underneath, with his own face peeping out at one 
 end, and the handsome tail bobbing gaily at the other. 
 What a comfort that tail was to Sancho, none but a 
 bereaved bow-wow could ever tell. It reconciled him to 
 his distasteful part at once, it made rehearsals a joy, 
 and even before the pubhc he could not resist turning 
 to catch a ghmpse of the noble appendage, while his 
 own brief member wagged with the proud consciousness 
 that though the tail did not match the head, it was long 
 enough to be seen of all men and dogs. 
 
 That was a pretty picture, for the little maid came 
 walking in with the basket on her arm, and such an 
 innocent face inside the bright hood that it was quite 
 natural the gray wolf should trot up to her with 
 deceitful friendliness, that she should pat and talk 
 to him confidingly about the butter for gi^andma, and 
 then that they should walk away together, he politely 
 carrying her basket, she with her hand on his head, 
 
262 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 little dreaming what evil plans were taking shape 
 inside. 
 
 The children encored that, but there was no time to 
 repeat it, so they listened to more stifled merriment be- 
 hind the red table-cloths, and wondered whether the 
 next scene would be the wolf popping his head out of 
 the window as Red Riding Hood knocks, or the tragic 
 end of that sweet child. 
 
 It was neither, for a nice bed had been made, and in 
 it reposed the false grandmother, with a ruffled night- 
 cap on, a white gown, and spectacles. Betty lay be- 
 side the wolf, staring at him as if just about to say, 
 "Why, grandma, what great teeth you've got!" for 
 Sancho's mouth was half open and a red tongue hung 
 out, as he panted with the exertion of keeping still. 
 This tableau wa6 so very good, and yet so funny, that 
 the children clapped and shouted frantically ; this 
 excited the dog, who gave a bounce and would have 
 leaped off the bed to bark at the rioters, if Betty had 
 not caught him by the legs, and Thorny dropped the 
 curtain just at the moment when the wicked wolf was 
 apparently in the act of devouring the poor little girl, 
 with most effective growls. 
 
 They had to come out then, and did so, both much 
 dishevelled by the late tussle, for Sancho's cap was all 
 over one eye, and Betty's hood was anywhere but on 
 her head. She made her courtesy prettily, however; 
 her fellow-actor bowed with as much dignity as a short 
 night-gown permitted, and they retired to their well- 
 earned repose. 
 
 Then Thorny, looking much excited, appeared tc 
 make the following request: " As one of the actors iu 
 
CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE. 263 
 
 the next piece is new to the business, the company must 
 all keep as still as mice, and not stir till I give the word. 
 It *s perfectly splendid ! so don't you spoil it by making 
 a row." 
 
 ** What do you suppose it is? " asked every one, and 
 listened with all their might to get a hint, if possible. 
 Eui what they heard only whetted their curiosity and 
 mystified them more and more. Bab's voice cried in a 
 loud whisper, " Isn't Ben beautiful?" Then there was 
 a thumping noise, and Miss Celia said, in an anxious 
 tone, " Oh, do be careful," while Ben laughed out as if 
 he was too happy to care who heard him, and Thorny 
 bawled " Whoa ! " in a way which would have attracted 
 attention if Lita's head had not popped out of her box, 
 more than once, to survey the invaders of her abode, 
 with a much astonished expression. 
 
 ''Sounds kind of circusy, don't it?" said Sam to 
 Billy, who had come out to receive the compliments of 
 the company and enjoy the tableau at a safe distance. 
 
 '' You just wait tiU you see what 's coming. It beats 
 any circus / ever saw," answered BiUy, rubbing his 
 hands with the air of a man who had seen many instead 
 of but one. 
 
 " Ready ! Be quick and get out of the way when 
 she goes off ! " whispered Ben, but they heard him and 
 prepared for pistols, rockets or combustibles of some 
 sort, as ships were impossible under the circumstances, 
 and no other " she " occurred to them. 
 
 A unanimous '' O-o-o-o ! " was heard when the cur- 
 tain rose, but a stern '' Hush ! " from Thorny kept them 
 mutely staring with all their eyes at the grand spectacle 
 of the evening. There stood Lita with a wide flat saddle 
 
264 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 on her back, a white head-stall and reins, blue rosettes 
 in her ears, and the look of a much-bewildered beast in 
 her bright eyes. But who the gauzy, spangled, winged 
 creature was, with a gilt crown on its head, a httle bow 
 in its hand, and one white shpper in the air, while the 
 other seemed merely to touch the saddle, no one could 
 tell for a minute, so strange and splendid did the appari- 
 tion appear. No wonder Ben was not recognized in 
 this brilhant disguise, which was more natural to him 
 than Billy's blue flannel or Thorny^s respectable gar- 
 ments. He had so begged to be allowed to show him- 
 self "just once," as he used to be in the days when 
 '' father " tossed him up on the bare-backed old G-eneral, 
 for hundreds to see and admire, that Miss Celia had 
 consented, much against her will, and hastily arranged 
 some bits of spangled tarlatan over the white cotton suit 
 which was to simulate the regulation tights. Her old 
 dancing slippers fitted, and gold paper did the rest, 
 while Ben, sure of his power over Lit a, promised not 
 to break his bones, and lived for days on the thought 
 of the moment when he could show the boys that he 
 had not boasted vainly of past splendors. 
 
 Before the dehghted children could get their breath, 
 Lita gave signs of her dislike to the foot-hghts, and, 
 gathering up the reins that lay on her neck, Ben gave 
 the Did cry, " Houp4a ! " and let her go, as he had 
 often done before, straight out of the coach-house for a 
 gallop round the orchard. 
 
 " Just turn about and you can see perfectly well, but 
 stay where you are till he comes back," conamanded 
 Thorny, as signs of commotion appeared in the excited 
 audience. 
 
CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE. 265 
 
 Round went the twenty children as if turned by one 
 orank, and sitting there they looked out into the moon- 
 light where the shining figure flashed to and fro, now so 
 dear they could see the smiling face under the crown, 
 now so far away that it glittered like a fire-fly among 
 the dusky green. Lita enjoyed that race as heartily 
 as she had done several others of late, and caracoled 
 about as if anxious to make up for her lack of skill by 
 speed and obedience. How much Ben liked it there is 
 no need to tell, yet it was a proof of the good which 
 three months of a quiet, useful life had done him, that 
 even as he pranced gayly under the boughs thick with 
 the red and yellow apples almost ready to be gathered, 
 he found this riding in the fresh air with only his 
 mates for an audience pleasanter than the crowded tent, 
 the tired horses, profane men, and painted women, 
 friendly as some of them had been to him. 
 
 After the first burst was over, he felt rather glad, on 
 the whole, that he was going back to plain clothes, 
 helpful school, and kindly people, who cared more to 
 have him a good boy than the most famous Cupid that 
 ever stood on one leg with a fast horse under him. 
 
 '' You may make as much noise as you like, now; 
 Lita *s had her run and will be as quiet as a lamb after it 
 Pull up, Ben, and come in ; sister says you '11 get cold," 
 shouted Thorny, as the rider came cantering round 
 aflei a leap over the lodge gate and back again. 
 
 So Ben pulled up, and the admiring boys and girls 
 were allowed to gather about him, loud in their praises 
 as they examined the pretty mare and the mythological 
 character who lay easily on her back. He looked very 
 U*tle like the god of love now ; for he had lost on€ 
 
266 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 slipper and splashed Ms white legs with dew and dust, 
 the crown had slipped down upon his neck, and the 
 paper wings hung in an apple-tree where he had left 
 them as he went by. No trouble in recognizing Ben, 
 now ; but somehow he didn't want to be seen, and, in- 
 ^ad of staying to be praised, he soon slipped away, 
 making Lita his excuse to vanish behind the curtain 
 while the rest went into the house to have a finishing-oflf 
 game of blindman's-buff in the big kitchen. 
 
 '*WeU, Ben, are you satisfied?" asked Miss Celia, 
 as she stayed a moment to unpin the remains of his 
 gauzy scarf and tunic. 
 
 " Yes 'm, thank you, it was tip-top." 
 
 " But you look rather sober. Are you tired, or is it 
 because you don't want to take these trappings off and 
 be plain Ben again ? " she said, looking down into his face 
 as he lifted it for her to free him from his gilded collar. 
 
 "I want to take 'em off; for somehow I don't feel 
 respectable," and he kicked away the crown he had 
 helped to make so carefully, adding with a glance that 
 said more than his words : " I 'd rather be ' plain Ben * 
 than any one else, for you like to have me." 
 
 *' Indeed I do ; and I 'm so glad to hear you say that, 
 because I was afraid you 'd long to be off to the old 
 ways, and all I 've tried to do would be undone. Would 
 you like to go back, Ben?" and Miss Celia held his 
 chin an instant, to watch the brown face that looked so 
 honestly back at her. 
 
 " No, I wouldn't — unless — he was there and wanted 
 me" 
 
 The chin quivered just a bit, but the black eyes were 
 as bright as ever, and the boy's voice so earnest, she 
 
CUPID'S LAST APPEARANCE. 267 
 
 knew he spoke the truth, and laid her white hand softly 
 on his head, as she answered in the tone he loved so 
 much, because no one else had ever used it to him, — 
 
 "Father is not there; but I know he wants you, 
 dear, and I am sure he would rather see you in a home 
 like this than in the place you came from. Now go and 
 dress ; but, tell me first, has it been a happy birthday ? '' 
 
 "Oh, Miss Celia! I didn't know they could be so 
 beautifiil, and this is the beautifulest part of it ; I don't 
 know how to thank j^ou, but I 'm going to try — " and, 
 finding words wouldn't come fast enough, Ben just put 
 his two arms round her, quite speechless with gratitude ; 
 then, as if ashamed of his little outburst, he knelt 
 down in a great hurry to untie his one shoe. 
 
 But Miss Celia liked his answer better than thp finest 
 speech ever made her, and went away through the moon- 
 light, saying to herself, — 
 
 "If I can bring one lost lamb into the fold l sh&U 
 be the fitter for a shepherd's wife, by-and-by." 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 A BOTS BABGAIN, 
 
 IT was some days before the children were tired of 
 talking over Ben's birthday party; for it was a 
 great event in their small world ; but, gradually, newer 
 pleasures came to occupy their minds, and they began 
 to plan the nutting frolics which always followed the 
 early frosts. While waiting for Jack to open the 
 chestnut burrs, they varied the monotony of school 
 hfe by a lively scrimmage long known as "the wood- 
 pile fight." 
 
 The girls liked to play in the half-empty shed, and 
 the boys, merely for the fun of teasing, declared that 
 they should not, so blocked up the door-way as fast as 
 the giiis cleared it. Seeing that the squabble was a 
 merry one, and the exercise better for aU than lounging 
 in the sun or reading in school during recess. Teacher 
 did not interfere, and the barrier rose and fell almost as 
 regularly as the tide. 
 
 It would be difficult to say which side worked the 
 harder ; for the boys went before school began to build 
 up the barricade, and the gii'ls stayed after lessons 
 were over to pull down the last one made in afternoon 
 fecess. They had their play-time first ; and, while the 
 boys waited inside, they heard the shouts of the girls, 
 
A BOTS BARGAIN. 269 
 
 the banging of the wood, and the final crash, as the 
 well-packed pile went down. Then, as the lassies came 
 in, rosy, breathless, and triumphant, the lads rushed out 
 to man the breach, and labor gallantly till all was as 
 tight as hard blows could make it. 
 
 So the battle raged, and bruised knuckles, splinters 
 in fingers, torn clothes, and rubbed shoes, were the only 
 wounds received, while a great deal of fun was had out 
 of the maltreated logs, and a lasting peace secured 
 between two of the boys. 
 
 When the party was safely over, Sam began to fall 
 into his old way of tormenting Ben by calling names, 
 as it cost no exertion to invent trying speeches, and 
 slyly utter them when most likely to annoy. Ben 
 bore it as well as he could ; but fortune favored him at 
 last, as it usually does the patient, and he was able to 
 make his own terms with his tormentor. 
 
 When the girls demolished the wood-pile, they per- 
 formed a jubilee chorus on combs, and tin kettles, 
 played like tambourines ; the boys celebrated their 
 victories with shrill whistles, and a drum accompani- 
 ment with fists on the shed walls. Billy brought his 
 drum, and this was such an addition that Sam hunted 
 up an old one of his little brother's, in order that he 
 might join the drum corps. He had no sticks, however, 
 and, casting about in his mind for a good substitute for 
 the o-enuine thing, bethought him of bulrushes. 
 
 " Those will do first-rate, and there are lots in the 
 ma'sh, if I can only get 'em," he said to himself, 
 and turned off from the road on his way home to get 
 a supply. 
 
 Now, this marsh was a treacherous spot, and the 
 
270 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 tragic story was told of a cow who got in there and 
 sank till nothing was visible but a pair of horns above 
 the mud, which suffocated the unwary beast. For tliis 
 reason it was called " Cowshp Marsh," the wags said, 
 though it was generally beheved to be so named for the 
 yellow flowers which grew there in great profusion in 
 the spring. 
 
 Sam had seen Ben hop nimbly from one tuft of grass 
 to another Tvhen he went to gather cowshps for Betty, 
 and the stout boy thought he could do the same. Two 
 or three heavy jumps landed him, not among the bul- 
 rushes, as he had hoped, but in a pool of muddy water, 
 where he sank up to his middle with alarming rapidity. 
 Much scared, he tried to wade out, but could only 
 flounder to a tussock of grass, and cling there, while 
 he endeavored to kick his legs free. He got them out, 
 but struggled in vain to coil them up or to hoist his 
 heavy body upon the very small island in this sea of 
 mud. Down they splashed again; and Sam gave a 
 dismal groan as he thought of the leeches and water- 
 snakes which might be l}ing in wait below. Visions 
 of the lost cow also flashed across his agitated mind, 
 and he gave a despairing shout very like a distracted 
 '^Moo!" 
 
 Few people passed along the lane, and the sun was 
 setting, so the prospect of a night in the marsh nerved 
 Sam to make a frantic plunge toward the buh-ush island, 
 which was nearer than the main-land, and looked firmer 
 than any tussock round him. But he failed to reach 
 this haven of rest, and was forced to stop at an old 
 stump which stuck up, looking very like the moss-grown 
 horns of the ''dear departed." Roosting here, Sam 
 
A BOTS BARGAIN, 271 
 
 began to shout for aid in every key possible to the 
 human voice. Such hoots and howls, whistles and 
 roars, never woke the echoes of the lonely marsh be- 
 fore, or scared the portly frog who resided there in calm 
 seclusion. 
 
 He hardly expected any reply but the astonished 
 " Caw ! " of the crow, who sat upon a fence watching 
 him with gloomy interest ; and when a cheerful " Hullo, 
 there ! " sounded from the lane, he was so grateful that 
 tears of joy rolled down his fat cheeks. 
 
 "Come on! I'm in the ma'sh. Lend a hand and 
 get me out ! " bawled Sam, anxiously waiting for his 
 deliverer to appear, for he could only see a hat bob- 
 bing along behind the hazel-bushes that fringed the 
 lane. 
 
 Steps crashed through the bushes, and then over the 
 wall came an active figure, at the sight of which Sam 
 was almost ready to dive out of sight, for, of all pos- 
 sible boys, who should it be but Ben, the last person in 
 the world whom he would like to have see him in his 
 present pitiful plight. 
 
 " Is it you, Sam? Well, you are in a nice fix ! " and 
 Ben's eyes began to twinkle with mischievous merriment, 
 as well they might, for Sam certainly was a spectacle 
 to convulse the soberest person. Perched unsteadily 
 ')n the gnarled stump, with his muddy legs drawn up, 
 .tiis dismal face splashed with mud, and the whole lower 
 half of his body as black as if he had been dipped in 
 an inkstand, he presented such a comically doleful 
 object that Ben danced about, laughing like a naughty 
 will-o'-the-wisp who, having led a traveller astray, then 
 fell to jeering at him. 
 
272 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 "Stop that, or I'll knock your head off! " roared 
 Sam, in a rage. 
 
 ** Come on and do it ; I give you leave," answered 
 Ben, sparring away derisively as the other tottered on 
 his perch, and was forced to hold tight lest he should 
 tujnble off. 
 
 ''Don't laugh, there's a good chap, but fish me out 
 somehow, or I shall get my death sitting here all wet 
 and cold," whined Sam, changing his tone, and feehng 
 bitterly that Ben had the upper hand now. 
 
 Ben felt it also ; and, though a very good-natured 
 boy, could not resist the temptation to enjoy this ad- 
 vantage for a moment at least. 
 
 " I won't laugh if I can help it ; only yovi do look so 
 like a fat, speckled frog, I may not be able to hold in. 
 I 'U pull you out pretty soon ; but first 1 'm going to talk 
 to you, Sam," said Ben, sobering down as he took a 
 seat on the little point of land nearest the stranded 
 Samuel. 
 
 " Hurry up, then ; I'm as stiff as a board now, and 
 it 's no fun sitting here on this knotty old thing," growled 
 Sam, with a discontented squirm. 
 
 " Dare say not, but ' it is good for you,' as you say 
 when you rap me over the head. Look here, I 've got 
 you in a tight place, and I don't mean to help you a 
 bit till you promise to let me alone. Now then ! " and 
 Ben's face grew stern with his remembered wrongs aa 
 he grimly eyed his discomfited foe. 
 
 ''I'll promise fast enough if you won't tell any one 
 about this," answered Sam, sm'vejing himself and his 
 surroundings with gi-eat disgust. 
 
 " I shall do as I like about that." 
 
A SOrS BARGAIN. 273 
 
 **Then I won't promise a thing! I'm not gomg 
 to have the whole school laughing at me," protested 
 Sam, who hated to be ridiculed even more than Ben 
 did. 
 
 " Very well ; good-night ! " and Ben walked off with 
 his hands in his pockets as coolly as if the bog was 
 Sam's favorite retreat. 
 
 " Hold on, don't be in such a hurry ! " shouted Sam, 
 seeing little hope of rescue if he let this chance go. 
 
 " All right ! " and back came Ben, ready for further 
 negotiations. 
 
 "I'll promise not to plague you, if you'll promise 
 not to tell on me. Is that what you want?" 
 
 " Now I come to think of it, there is one thing more. 
 I like to make a good bargain when I begin," said Ben, 
 with a shrewd air. " You must promise to keep Mose 
 quiet, too. He follows your lead, and if you tell him 
 to stop it he will. If I was big enough, I 'd make you 
 hold your tongues. I ain't, so we '11 try this way." 
 
 "Yes, yes, I'll see to Mose. Now, bring on a rail, 
 there 's a good fellow. I 've got a horrid cramp in my 
 legs," began Sam, thinking he had bought help dearly, 
 yet admiring Ben's cleverness in making the most of 
 his chance. 
 
 Ben brought the rail, but, just as he was about to lay 
 it from the main-land to the nearest tussock, he stopped, 
 saying, with the naughty twinkle in his black eyes again, 
 "One more little thing must be settled first, and then 
 I'U get you ashore. Promise you won't plague the girls 
 either, 'specially Bab and Betty. You pull their hair, 
 and thej^ don't like it." 
 
 " Don't neither ! Wouldn't touch that Bab for a dol- 
 
'-^74 UNDER THE LILACS 
 
 lar ; she scratches and bites like a mad cat," was Sam'a 
 sulky reply. 
 
 "Glad of it; she can take care of herself. Betty 
 can't ; and if you touch one of her pig-tails I '11 up and 
 tell right out how I found you snivelling in the ma'sh 
 like a great baby. So now ! " and Ben emphasized Ms 
 threat with a blow of the suspended rail which splashed 
 the water over poor Sam, quenching his last spark of 
 resistance. 
 
 "Stop! I will! — I will!" 
 
 ' ^ True as you live and breathe ! " demanded Ben, 
 sternty binding him by the most solemn oath he knew. 
 
 "True as I live and breathe," echoed Sam, dole- 
 full3^ relinquishing his favorite pastime of pulling Betty's 
 braids and asking if she was at home. 
 
 "I'll come over there and crook fingers on the bar- 
 gain," said Ben, settling the rail and running over it to 
 the tuft, then bridging another pool and crossing again 
 till he came to the stump. 
 
 "I never thought of that way," said Sam, watching 
 Mm with much inward chagrin at his own failure. 
 
 "I should tMnk you'd written 'Look before you 
 leap,' in your copy-book often enough to get the idea 
 into your stupid head. Come, crook," commanded 
 Ben, leaning forward with extended httle finger. 
 
 Sam obediently performed the ceremony, and then 
 Ben sat astride one of the horns of the stump while the 
 muddj' Crusoe went slowly across the rail from point to 
 point till he landed safely on the shore, when he turned 
 about and asked with an ungi-ateful jeer, — 
 
 "Now what's going to become of you, old Look- 
 before-you-leap ? " 
 
A BOrS BARGAIN. 276 
 
 " Mud turtles can only sit on a stump and bawl till 
 they are taken off, but frogs have legs worth something, 
 and are not afraid of a little water," answered Ben, 
 hopping away in an opposite direction, since the pools 
 between him and Sam were too wide for even his lively 
 fegs. 
 
 Sam waddled off to the brook in the lane to 
 rinse the mud from his nether man before facing his 
 mother, and was just wringing himself out when Ben 
 came up, breathless but good-natured, for he felt that 
 he had made an excellent bargain for himself and 
 friends. 
 
 " Better wash your face ; it's as speckled as a tiger 
 lily. Here 's my handkerchief if yours is wet," he said, 
 pulKng out a dingy article which had evidently already 
 done service as a towel. 
 
 " Don't want it," muttered Sam, gruffly, as he poured 
 the water out of his muddy shoes. 
 
 *'*■ I was taught to say 'Thanky' when folks got me 
 out of scrapes. But you never had much bringing up, 
 though you do ' hve in a house with a gambrel roof,' " 
 retorted Ben, sarcastically quoting Sam's frequent boast ; 
 then he walked off, much disgusted with the ingratitude 
 of man. 
 
 Sam forgot his manners, but he remembered hia 
 promise, and kept it so well that all the school won- 
 dered. No one could guess the secret of Ben's power 
 over him, though it was evident that he had gained it 
 in some sudden way, for at the least sign of Sam's 
 former tricks Ben would crook his little finger and wag 
 it warningly, or call out " Bukushes ! " and Sam sub- 
 sided with reluctant submission, to tlie great amaze- 
 
276 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 ment of his mates. When asked what it meant, Sam 
 turned sulky ; but Ben had much fun out of it, assur- 
 ing the other boys that those were the signs and pass- 
 word of a secret society to which he and Sam belonged, 
 and promised to tell them all about it if Sam would give 
 him leave, which, of course, he would not. 
 
 This mystery, and the vain endeavors to find it out. 
 caused a lull in the war of the wood-pile, and before 
 any new game was invented something happened which 
 gave the children plenty to talk about for a time. 
 
 A week after the secret alliance was formed, Ben ran 
 m one evening with a letter for Miss Ceha. He found 
 her enjo;>T.ng the cheer}^ blaze of the pine-cones the httle 
 girls had picked up for her, and Bab and Betty sat in 
 the small chairs rocking luxuriously as they took turns 
 to throw on the pretty fuel. Miss Celia turned quickly 
 to receive the ex^^ected letter, glanced at the writing, 
 post-mark and stamp, with an air of dehghted surprise, 
 then clasped it close in both hands, saving, as she hur- 
 ried out of the room, — 
 
 "He has come! he has come! Now you may tell 
 them, Thorny." 
 
 " Tell us what?" asked Bab, pricking up her ears at 
 onoe. 
 
 '' Oh, it's only that George has come, and I suppose 
 we shall go and get married right away," answered 
 Thorny, rubbing his hands as if he enjoyed the pros- 
 pect. 
 
 "Are you going to be married?" asked Betty, so 
 soberly that the boys shouted, and Thorny, with diffi- 
 culty, composed himself sufficiently to explain. 
 
 "No, child, not just yet; but sister is, and I must 
 
A BOTS BARGAIN. 277 
 
 go and see that is all done up ship-shape, and bring 
 you home some wedding-cake. Ben will take care of 
 you while I'm gone." 
 
 " When shall you go?" asked Bab, beginning to long 
 for her share of cake. 
 
 *^ To-morrow, I guess. Celia has been packed and 
 ready for a week. We agreed to meet George in New 
 York, and be married as soon as he got his best clothes 
 unpacked. We are men of our word, and off we go. 
 Won'; it be fun?" 
 
 "But when will you come back again?" questioned 
 Betty, looking anxious. 
 
 "Don't know. Sister wants to come soon, but IM 
 rather have our honeymoon somewhere else, — Niagara, 
 Newfoundland, West Point, or the Rocky Mountains," 
 said Thorny, mentioning a few of the places he most 
 desired to see. 
 
 " Do you hke him?" asked Ben, very naturally won 
 dering if the new master would approve of the young 
 man-of-all-work. 
 
 ' ' Don't I ? George is regularly jolly ; though now 
 he 's a minister, perhaps he '11 stiffen up and turn sober. 
 Won't it be a shame if he does ? " and Thorny looked 
 alarmed at the thought of losing his congenial friend. 
 
 "Tell about him; Miss Celia said you might," put 
 .n Bab, whose experience of "jolly" ministers had 
 heea small. 
 
 " Oh, there isn't much about it. We met in Switzer- 
 land going up Mount St. Bernard in a storm, and — " 
 
 " Where the good dogs live ? " inquired Betty, hopmg 
 they would come into the story. 
 
 " Yes ; we spent the night up there, and George 
 
278 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 gave us his room ; the house was so full, and ho 
 wouldn't let me go down a steep place where I wanted 
 to, and Celia thought he 'd saved my hfe, and was very 
 good to him. Then we kept meeting, and the fii-st thing 
 1 knew she went and was engaged to him. I didn't 
 care, only she would come home so he might go on 
 studpng hard and get through quick. That was a year 
 ago, and last winter we were in New York at uncle*3 ; 
 and then, in the spring, I was sick, and we came here, 
 and that's all." 
 
 " Shall 3"ou live here always when you come back?" 
 asked Bab, as Thorny paused for breath. 
 
 " Celia wants to. I shall go to college, so / don't 
 mind. George is going to help the old minister here 
 and see how he likes it. I 'm to study with him, and 
 if he is as pleasant as he used to be we shall have cap- 
 ital times, — see if we don't." 
 
 " I wonder if he will want me round," said Ben, feel 
 ing no desire to be a ti-amp again. 
 
 "/do, so you needn't fret about that, my hearty," 
 answered Thorny, with a resounding slap on the shoulder 
 which re-assured Ben more than any promises. 
 
 "I'd like to see a live wedding, then we could play 
 it with our dolls. I've got a nice piece of mosquito 
 Qetting for a veil, and Belinda's white dress is clean. 
 Do you s'pose Miss Celia will ask us to hers?" said 
 Betty to Bab, as the boys began to discuss St. Bernard 
 logs with spirit. 
 
 "I wish I could, dears," answered a voice behind 
 them ; and there was Miss Ceha, looking so happy that 
 the httle girls wondered what the letter could have said 
 to give her such bright eyes and smiling lips " I shall 
 
A BOrS BARGAIJS. '^79 
 
 not be gone long, or be a bit changed when I come 
 back, to live among you years I hope, for I am fond 
 of the old place now, and mean it shall be home," she 
 added, caressing the yellow heads as if they were dear 
 to her. 
 
 "Oh, goody! * cried Bab, while Betty whispered 
 with both arms round Miss Celia, — 
 
 *'I don't think we could bear to have anybody else 
 come here to live." 
 
 " It is very pleasant to hear you say that, and I mean 
 to make others feel so, if I can. I have been trpng a 
 kittle this summer, but when I come back I shall go to 
 work in earnest to be a good minister's wife, and you 
 must help me." 
 
 "We will," promised both children, ready for any 
 thing except preaching in the high pulpit. 
 
 Then Miss Ceha turned to Ben, saying, in the re- 
 spectful way that always made him feel, at least twenty- 
 five,— 
 
 "We shall be off to-morrow, and I leave you m 
 charge. Go on just as if we were here, and be sure 
 nothing will be changed as far as you are concernea 
 when we come back." 
 
 Ben's face beamed at that; but the only way he 
 could express his relief was by making such a blaze 
 in honor of the occasion that he nearly roasted the 
 company. 
 
 Next morning, the brother and sister slipped quietly 
 away, and the children hurried to school, eager to tell 
 the gi-eat news that " Miss Ceha and Thorny had gone 
 to be married, and were coming back to live here for 
 ever and ever." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 SOMEBODY COMES. 
 
 AB and Betty had been playing in the avenue all 
 the afternoon several weeks later, but as the 
 shadows began to lengthen both agreed to sit upon the 
 gate and rest while waiting for Ben, who had gone nut- 
 ting with a party of boys. When they played house Bab 
 was always the father, and went hunting or fishing with 
 great energy and success, bringing home all sorts of 
 game, from elephants and crocodiles to humming-birds 
 and minnows. Betty was the mother, and a most notable 
 little housewife, always mixing up imaginary dehcacies 
 with sand and dii't in old pans and broken china, which 
 she baked in an oven of her own construction. 
 
 Both had worked hard that day, and were glad to 
 retire to their favorite lounging-place, where Bab was 
 happy tning to walk across the wide top bar without 
 tailing off, and Betty enjoyed slow, luxurious swings 
 while her sister was recovering from her tumbles. On 
 this occasion, having indulged their respective tastes, 
 they paused for a brief interval of conversation, sitting 
 side by side on the gate like a pair of plump gray 
 chickens gone to roost. 
 
 "Don't you hope Ben will get his bag full? We 
 shall have such fun eating nuts evenings," observed 
 
SOMEBODY COMES. 281 
 
 Bab, wrapping her arms in her apron, for it was October 
 now, and the air was growing keen. 
 
 " Yes, and Ma says we may boil some in our little 
 kettles. Ben promised we should have half," answered 
 Betty, stiU intent on her cookery. 
 
 " I shall save some of mine for Thorny." 
 
 " I shall keep lots of mine for Miss Celia.** 
 
 '* Doesn't it seem more than two weeks since aha 
 went away ? " 
 
 " I wonder what she 'U bring us." 
 
 Before Bab could conjecture, the sound of a step and 
 a familiar whistle made both look expectantly toward 
 the turn in the road, aU ready to cry out in one voice, 
 " How many have you got?" Neither spoke a word, 
 however, for the figure which presently appeared was 
 not Ben, but a stranger, — a man who stopped whisthng, 
 and came slowly on dusting his shoes in the way-side 
 grass, and brushing the sleeves of his shabby velveteen 
 coat as if anxious to freshen himself up a bit. 
 
 ''It's a tramp, let's run away," whispered Betty, 
 after a hasty look 
 
 "I ain't afraid," and Bab was about to assume her 
 boldest look when a sneeze spoilt it, and made her 
 clutch the gate to hold on. 
 
 At that unexpected sound the man looked up, show- 
 ing a thin, dark face, with a pair of sharp, black eyes, 
 which surveyed the little girls so steadily that Betty 
 quaked, and Bab began to wish she had at least jumped 
 down inside the gate. 
 
 " How are you? " said the man with a good-natured 
 nod and smile, as if to re-assure the round-eyed chUdrei]! 
 staring at him. 
 
2S2 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 " Pretty well, thank you, sir," responded Bab, 
 politely nodding back at him. 
 
 " Folks at home? " asked the man, looking over theii 
 keads toward the house. 
 
 " Only Ma ; all the rest have gone to be married.'' 
 
 '* That sounds lively. At the other place all the 
 fblks had gone to a funeral," and the man laughed aa 
 he glanced at the big house on the hill. 
 
 "Why, do you know the Squire?" exclaimed Bab, 
 much surprised and re-assured. 
 
 " Come on purpose to see him. Just strolling round 
 till he gets back," with an impatient sort of sigh. 
 
 " Betty thought you was a tramp, but I wasn't 
 afraid. I hke tramps ever since Ben came," explained 
 Bab, with her usual candor. 
 
 " Who 's Ben ! " and the man came nearer so quickly 
 that Betty nearly fell backward. '' Don't you be scared, 
 Sissy. I hke httle girls, so you set easy and tell me 
 about Ben," he added, in a persuasive tone, as he 
 leaned on the gate so near that both could see what a 
 friendly face he had in spite of its eager, anxious look. 
 
 " Ben is Miss Ceha's boy. We found him most 
 starved in the coach-house, and he's been here ever 
 since," answered Bab, comprehensively. 
 
 " Tell me all about it. I like tramps, too," and the 
 man looked as if he did very much, as Bab told the 
 little story in a few childish words that were better than 
 a much more elegant account. 
 
 " You were very good to the little feller," was all the 
 man said when she ended her somewhat confused tale^ 
 in which she had jumbled the old coach and ^liss Celia, 
 dinner-pailfl and nutting, Sancho and circuses 
 
SOMEBODY COMES. 283 
 
 *' 'Course we were ! He 's a nice boy and we are fond 
 of him, and he hkes us," said Bab, heartily. 
 
 " 'Specially me," put in Betty, quite at ease now, for 
 the black eyes had softened wonderfully, and the brown 
 face was smiling all over. 
 
 " Don't wonder a mite. You are the nicest pair of 
 little girls I 've seen this long time," and the man put a 
 hand on either side of them, as if he wanted to hug the 
 chubby children. But he didn't do it; he merely 
 smiled and stood there asking questions till the two 
 chatterboxes had told him every thing there was to 
 tell in the most confiding manner, for he very soon 
 ceased to seem like a stranger, and looked so famihar 
 that Bab, growing inquisitive in her turn, suddenly 
 said, — 
 
 " Haven't you ever been here before? It seems as if 
 I 'd seen you." 
 
 "Never in my life. Guess you've seen somebody 
 that looks Kke me," and the black eyes twinkled for a 
 minute as they looked into the puzzled httle faces be 
 fore him. Then he said, soberly, — 
 
 " I 'm looking round for a likely boy ; don't you think 
 this Ben would suit me? I want just such a hvely sort 
 of chap." 
 
 " Are you a circus man? " asked Bab, quickly. 
 
 " WeU, no, not now. I 'm in better business." 
 
 "I'm glad of it — we don't approve of 'em; but I 
 do think they 're splendid ! " 
 
 Bab began by gravely quoting Miss Ceha, and ended 
 with an u-repressible burst of admiration which con- 
 trasted droUy with her first remark. 
 
 Betty added, anxiously: " We can't let Ben go any 
 
284 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 yf&j. I know he wouldn't want to, and Miss Celia 
 would feel bad. Please don't ask him." 
 
 " He can do as he likes , I suppose. He hasn't got 
 any folks of his own, has he? " 
 
 '* No, his father died in California, and Ben felt so 
 bad he cried, and we were real sorry, and gave him a 
 piece of Ma, 'cause he was so lonesome," answered 
 Betty, in her tenier little voice, with a pleading look 
 which made the man stroke her smooth cheek and say, 
 quite softly, — 
 
 '' Bless your heart for that ! I won't take him away, 
 child, or do a thing to trouble anybody that 's been good 
 to him." 
 
 "He's coming now. I hear Sanch barking at the 
 squirrels ! " cried Bab, standing up to get a good look 
 down the road. 
 
 The man turned quickly, and Betty saw that he 
 breathed fast as he watched the spot where the low 
 sunshine lay warmly on the red maple at the corner. 
 Into this glow came unconscious Ben, whistling " Rory 
 O'Moore," loud and clear, as he trudged along with a 
 heavy bag of nuts over his shoulder and the light fuU on 
 Ms contented face. Sancho trotted before and saw the 
 Btranger first, for the sun in Ben's eyes dazzled him. 
 Since his sad loss Sancho cherished a strong dislike to 
 tramps, and now he paused to growl and show his 
 teeth, evidently intending to warn this one off the 
 premises. 
 
 " He won't hurt you — " began Bab, encouragingly ; 
 but before she could add a chiding word to the dog, 
 Sanch gave an excited howl, and flew at the man'a 
 throat as if about to throttle him. 
 
SOMEBODY COMES. 286 
 
 Betty screamed, and Bab was about to go to the 
 rescue when both perceived that the dog was licking the 
 stranger's face in an ecstasy of joy, and heard the man 
 say as he hugged the curly beast, — 
 
 ' ' Good old Sanch ! I knew he wouldn't forget master, 
 and he doesn't." 
 
 '' What 's the matter? " caEed Ben, coming up briskly, 
 with a strong grip of his stout stick. 
 
 There was no need of any answer, for, as he came 
 into the shadow, he saw the man, and stood looking at 
 him as if he were a ghost. 
 
 ''It's father, Benny; don't you know me?" asked 
 the man, with an odd sort of choke in his voice, as he 
 thrust the dog away, and held out both hands to the 
 boy. 
 
 Down dropped the nuts, and crying, " Oh, Daddy, 
 Daddy ! " Ben cast himself into the arms of the shabby 
 velveteen coat, while poor Sanch tore round them in 
 distracted circles, barking wildly, as if that was the 
 only way in which he could vent his rapture. 
 
 What happened next Bab and Betty never stopped to 
 see, but, dropping from their roost, they went flying 
 home like startled Chicken Littles with the astounding 
 news that "Ben's father has come alive, and Sancho 
 knew him right away ! " 
 
 Mrs Moss had just got her cleaning done up, and wag 
 resting a minute before setting the table, but she flew 
 out of her old rocking-chair when the excited children 
 told the wonderful tale, exclaiming as they ended, — 
 
 "Where is he? Go bring him here. I declare it 
 fairly takes my breath away ! " 
 
 Before Bab could obey, or her mother compose her 
 
286 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 self, Sancho bounced in and spun round like an insane 
 top, trying to stand on Ms head, walk upright, waltz 
 and bark all at once, for the good old fellow had so lost 
 his head that he forgot the loss of his tail. 
 
 "They are coming! they are coming! See, Ma, 
 what a nice man he is," said Bab, hopping about on one 
 foot as she watched the slowly approaching pair. 
 
 " My patience, don't they look alike ! I should know 
 he was Ben's Pa anywhere I " said Mrs. Moss, running 
 to the door in a hurry. 
 
 They certainly did resemble one another, and it was 
 almost comical to see the same curve in the legs, the 
 same wide-awake style of wearing the hat, the same 
 sparkle of the eye, good-natured smile and agile motion 
 of every limb. Old Ben carried the bag in one hand 
 while young Ben held the other fast, looking a little 
 shame-faced at his own emotion now, for there were 
 marks of tears on his cheeks, but too glad to repress 
 the delight he felt that he had rea% found Daddy this 
 side heaven. 
 
 JMrs. Moss unconsciously made a pretty little picture 
 of herself as she stood at the door with her honest face 
 shining and both hands out, saying in a hearty tone, 
 which was a welcome in itself, — 
 
 "I'm real glad to see you safe and weU, Mr. Brown I 
 Come right in and make j^ourself to home. I guess 
 there isn't a happier boy living than Ben is to-night." 
 
 " And I Tcnow there isn't a gratefuler man living than 
 I am for your kindness to my poor forsaken Uttle feller,'* 
 answered Mr. Brown, dropping both his bui'dens to give 
 the comely woman's hands a hard shake. 
 
 " Now don't say a word about it, but sit down and 
 
SOMEBODY COMES. 287 
 
 pest, and we '11 have tea in less 'n no time. Ben must 
 be tii-ed and hungry, though he's so happy I don't be- 
 lieve he knows it," laughed Mrs. Moss, bustling away 
 to hide the tears in her eyes, anxious to make things 
 sociable and easy all round. 
 
 With this end in view she set forth her best china, 
 and covered the table with food enough for a dozen, 
 thanking her stars that it was baking day, and every 
 thing had turned out well. Ben and his father sat talk- 
 ing by the window till they were bidden to " draw up 
 and help themselves" with such hospitable warmth 
 that every thing had an extra relish to the hungry 
 pair. 
 
 Ben paused occasionally to stroke the rusty coat- 
 sleeve with bread-and-buttery fingers to convince him- 
 self that "Daddy" had reaUy come, and his father 
 disposed of various inconvenient emotions by eating as 
 if food was unknown in California. Mrs. Moss beamed 
 on every one from behind the big tea-pot like a mild 
 fiill moon, while Bab and Betty kept interrupting one 
 another in their eagerness to tell something new about 
 Ben and how Sanch lost his tail. 
 
 " Now you let Lir. Brown talk a little ; we all want 
 to hear how he ' came aUve,' as you call it," said Mrs. 
 Moss, as they drew round the fire in the " settin'-room, 
 leaving the tea-things to take care of themselves. 
 
 It was not a long story, but a very interesting one to 
 this circle of listeners ; all about the wild life on the 
 plains trading for mustangs, the terrible kick from a 
 vicious horse that nearly killed Ben, sen. , the long months 
 of unconsciousness in the California hospital, the slow 
 recovery, the journey back, Mr. Smithers' tale of the 
 
288 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 bo/s disappearance, and then the anxious trip to find 
 out from Squire Allen where he now was. 
 
 " I asked the hospital folks to write and teU you as 
 soon as 1 knew whether I was on my head or my heels, 
 and they promised ; but they didn't ; so I came off the 
 minute I could, and worked my way back, expecting to 
 find you at the old place. I was afraid you'd have 
 worn out your welcome here and gone off again, for you 
 are as fond of travelling as your father." 
 
 '' I wanted to sometimes, but the folks here were so 
 dreadful good to me I couldn't" confessed Ben, secretly 
 surprised to find that the prospect of going off with 
 Daddy even cost him a pang of regret, for the boy had 
 taken root in the friendly soil, and was no longer a 
 wandering thistle-down, tossed about by every wind 
 that blew. 
 
 "" I know what I owe 'em, and you and I wiU work 
 out that debt before we die, or our name isn't B. B.," 
 said Mr. Brown, with ,an emphatic slap on his knee, 
 which Ben imitated half unconsciously as he exclaimed 
 heartily, — 
 
 *' That's so ! " adding, more quietly, " What are you 
 going to do now? Go back to Smithers and the old 
 business ? " 
 
 '' Not likely, after the way he treated you. Sonny. 
 I 've had it out with him, and he won't want to see nm 
 again in a hurry," answered Mr. Brown, with a sudden 
 kindling of the eye that reminded Bab of Ben's face 
 when he shook her after losing Sancho. 
 
 ''There's more circuses than his in the world; but 
 I '11 have to limber out ever so much before I 'm good 
 for much in that line." said the boy, stretching his 
 
SOMEBODY COMES, 289 
 
 stout arms and legs with a curious mixture of satisfac- 
 tion and regret. 
 
 "You've been living in clover and got fat, you 
 rascal," and his father gave him a poke here and there, 
 as Mr. S queers did the plump Wackford, when display- 
 ing him as a specimen of the fine diet at Do-the-boya 
 HaU. " Don't beheve I could put you up now if I 
 tried, for I haven't got my strength back yet, and we 
 are both out of practice. It 's just as well, for I 've 
 about made up my mind to quit the business and settle 
 down somewhere for a speU, if I can get any thing to 
 do," continued the rider, folding his arms and gazing 
 thoughtfiilly into the fire. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder a mite if you could right here, 
 for Mr. Towne has a great boarding- stable over yonder, 
 and he's always wanting men," said Mrs. Moss, eagerly, 
 for she dreaded to have Ben go, and no one could forbid 
 it if his father chose to take him away. 
 
 " That sounds likely. Thanky, ma'am. I'll look up 
 the concern and try my chance. Would you call it too 
 great a come-down to have father an 'ostler after being 
 first rider in the ' Great Golden Menagerie, Circus, and 
 Colossem,' hey, Ben ? " asked Mr. Brovm, quoting the 
 well-remembered show-bill with a laugh. 
 
 '* No, I shouldn't; it's real jolly up there when the 
 big bam is fuU and eighty horses have to be taken care 
 of. I love to go and see 'em. Mr. Towne asked me 
 to come and be stable-boy when I rode the kicking gray 
 the rest were afraid of. I hankered to go, but Miss 
 Ceha had just got my new books, and I knew she'd 
 feel bad if I gave up going to school. Now I 'm glad J 
 didn't, for I get on first rate and like it." 
 13 a 
 
290 UNDER TEE LILACS, 
 
 "You done right, boy, and I'm pleased with you. 
 Don't you ever be ungrateful to them that befriended 
 you, if you want to prosper. I'U tackle the stable 
 busmess a Monday and see what's to be done. Now 
 I ought to be walking, but I '11 be round in the morn • 
 ing, ma'am, if you can spare Ben for a spell to-morrow. 
 We'd like to have a good Sunday tramp and talk; 
 wouldn't we, Sonny?" and Mr. Brown rose to go with 
 his hand on Ben's shoulder, as if loth to leave him even 
 for the night. 
 
 Mrs. Moss saw the longing in his face, and forgetting 
 that he was an utter stranger, spoke right out of her 
 hospitable heart. 
 
 ''It's a long piece to the tavern, and my little back 
 bed-room is always ready. It won't make a mite of 
 trouble if you don't mind a plain place, and you are 
 heartil}^ welcome." 
 
 Mr. Brown looked pleased, but hesitated to accept 
 any further favor from the good soul who had already 
 done so much for him and his. Ben gave him no time 
 to speak, however, for running to a door he flung it 
 open and beckoned, saying, eagerly, — 
 
 '' Do stay, father ; it will be so nice to have you. 
 This is a tip-top room ; I slept here the night I came, 
 and that bed was just splendid after bare ground for a 
 fortnight." 
 
 " I '11 stop, and as I'm pretty well done up, I guess 
 we may as well turn in now," answered the new guest ' 
 then, as if the memory of that homeless httle lad so 
 kindly cherished made his heart overflow in spite of him, 
 Mr. Brown paused at the door to say hastily, with a 
 hand on Bab and Betty's heads, as if his promise was 
 a very earnest one, — 
 
SOMEBODY COMES. 291 
 
 *'I don't forget, ma'am, these children shall never 
 want a Mend while Ben Brown 's alive ; " then he shut 
 the door so quickly that the other Ben's prompt " Hear, 
 hear ! " was cut short in the middle. 
 
 '* I s'pose he means that we shaU have a piece of 
 Ben's father, because we gave Ben a piece of our 
 mother," said Betty, softly. 
 
 '^ Of course he does, and it's all fair," answered 
 Bab, decidedly. " Isn't he a nice man, Ma?" 
 
 "Go to bed, children," was all the answer she got ; 
 but when they were gone, Mrs. Moss, as she washed 
 up her dishes, more than once glanced at a certain nail 
 where a man's hat had not hung for five years, and 
 thought with a sigh what a natural, protecting air that 
 slouched felt had. 
 
 K one wedding were not quite enough for a child's 
 story, we might here hint what no one di-eamed of then, 
 that before the year came round again Ben had found a 
 mother, Bab and Betty a father, and Mr. Brown's hat 
 was quite at home behind the kitchen door. But, on 
 the whole, it is best not to say a word about it. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE GREAT GATE IS OPENED, 
 
 THE Browns were up and out so early next morn- 
 ing that Bab and Betty were sure they had 
 run away in the night. But on looking for them, they 
 were discovered in the coach-house criticising Lita, both 
 with their hands in their pockets, both chewing straws, 
 and looking as much alike as a big elephant and a 
 small one. 
 
 "That's as pretty a little span as IVe seen for a 
 long time," said the elder Ben, as the children came 
 trotting down the path hand in hand, with the four 
 blue bows at the ends of their braids bobbing brisKiy 
 up and down. 
 
 "The nigh one is my favorite, but the off one is 
 the best goer, though she's dreadfully hard bitted," 
 answered Ben the younger, with such a comical as- 
 sumption of a jockey's important air that his father 
 laughed as he said in an undertone, — 
 
 " Come, boy, we must drop the old slang since weVe 
 given up the old business. These good folks are making 
 a gentleman of you, and I won't be the one to spoil 
 their work. Hold on, my dears, and I '11 show you how 
 they say good-morning in California," he added, beck- 
 oning to the little girls, who now came up rosy and 
 smiling 
 
THE GRhAT GATE IS OPENED. 293 
 
 "Breakfast is ready, sir," said Betty, looking much 
 relieved to find them. 
 
 *'We thought you'd run away from us,", explained 
 Bab, as both put out their hands to shake those ex- 
 tended to them. 
 
 "That would be a mean trick. But I'm going to 
 run away with you," and Mr. Brown whisked a httle 
 girl to either shoulder before they knew what had hap- 
 pened, while Ben, remembering the day, with difficulty 
 restrained himself from turning a series of triumphant 
 somersaults before them all the way to the door, where 
 Airs. Moss stood waiting for them. 
 
 After breakfast Ben disappeared for a short time, 
 and returned in his Sunday suit, looking so neat and 
 fresh that his father surveyed him with surprise and 
 pnde as he came in full of boyish sati^action in Ma 
 trim array. 
 
 " Here 's a smart young chap ! Did you take all that 
 trouble just to go to walk with old Daddy? " asked Mr. 
 Brown, stroking the smooth head, for they were alone 
 just then, Mrs. Moss and the children being upstairs 
 preparing for church. 
 
 " I thought may be you 'd like to go to meeting first," 
 answered Ben, looking up at him with such a happy face 
 that it was hard to refuse any thing. 
 
 "I'm too shabby, Sonny, else I'd go in a minute to 
 please you. 
 
 " Miss Ceha said God didn't mind poor clothes, and 
 she took me when I looked worse than you do. I al- 
 ways go in the morning ; she likes to have me," said 
 Ben, turning his hat about as if not quite sure what he 
 ought to do. 
 
294 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 ** Do you want to go? " asked his fathei in a tone of 
 Burprise. 
 
 *'I want to please her, if you don't mind. "We 
 could have our ti-amp this afternoon." 
 
 " I haven't been to meeting since mother died, and 
 it don't seem to come easy, though I know I ought to, 
 seeing I'm alive and here," and Mr. Brown looked 
 soberly out at the lovely autumn world as if glad to be 
 in it after his late danger and pain. 
 
 *' Miss Celia said church was a good place to take 
 our troubles, and to be thankful in. I went when I 
 thought you were dead, and now T 'd love to go when 
 I've got my Daddy safe again." 
 
 No one saw him, so Ben could not resist givmg his 
 father a sudden hug, which was warmly returned as the 
 man said earnestly, — 
 
 "I'll go, and thank the Lord hearty for giving me 
 back my boy better 'n I left him ! " 
 
 For a minute nothing was heard but the loud tick 
 of the old clock and a mournful whine from Sancho, 
 shut up in the shed lest he should go to church without 
 an invitation. 
 
 Then, as steps were heard on the stairs, Mr. Brown 
 caught up his hat, saying hastily, — 
 
 " I ain't fit to go vrith them, you tell 'em, and I'll 
 allp into a back seat after folks are in. I know the 
 way.**' And, before Ben could reply, he was gone. 
 
 Nothing was »3een of him along the way, but he saw 
 the little party, and rejoiced again over his boy, changed 
 in so many ways for the better ; for Ben was the one 
 thing which had kept his heart soft through all the triala 
 and temptations of a rough life. 
 
THE GREAT GATE IS OPENED. 295 
 
 " I promised Mary I 'd do my best for the poor baby 
 she had to leave, and I tried ; but I guess a better friend 
 than I am has been raised up for him when he needed 
 her most. It won't hurt me to foUow him in this road," 
 thought Mr. Brown, as he came out into the highway 
 from his stroll " across-lots," feeling that it would be 
 good for him to stay in this quiet place, for his own as 
 well as his son's sake. 
 
 The bell had done ringing when he reached the green, 
 but a single boy sat on the steps and ran to meet him, 
 saying, with a reproachful look, — 
 
 " I wasn't going to let you be alone, and have folks 
 think I was ashamed of my father. Come, Daddy, 
 we'U sit together." 
 
 So Ben led his father straight to the Squire's pew, 
 and sat beside him with a face so full of innocent pride 
 and joy, that people would have suspected the truth if 
 he had not already told many of them. Mr. Brown, 
 painfully conscious of his shabby coat, was rather 
 "taken aback," as he expressed it; but the Squire's 
 shake of the hand, and Mrs. Allen's gracious nod 
 enabled him to face the eyes of the interested congre- 
 gation, the younger portion of which stared steadily 
 at him all sermon time, in spite of paternal frowns and 
 maternal tweakings in the rear. 
 
 But the crowning glory of the day came after chiirchf 
 when the Squire said to Ben, and Sam heaid him, — 
 
 *'I've got a letter for you from Miss Celia. Come 
 home with me, and bring your father. I want to talk 
 to him." 
 
 The boy proudly escorted his parent to the old carry- 
 all, and, tucking himself in behind with Mrs. Allen, 
 
296 UNDER TEE LILACS. 
 
 had the satisfaction of seeing the slouched felt hat side 
 by side with the Squire's Sunday beaver in front, as they 
 drove off at such an unusually smart pace, it was evi- 
 dent that Duke knew there was a critical eye upon him. 
 The interest taken in the father was owing to the son at 
 first ; but, by the time the story was told, old Ben had 
 won friends for himself, not only because of the mis- 
 fortunes which he had evidently borne in a manly way, 
 but because of his delight in the boy's improvement, 
 and the desire he felt to turn his hand to any honest 
 w^ork, that he might keep Ben happy and contented tn 
 this good home. 
 
 "I'll give you a line to Towne. Smithers spoke well 
 of you, and your own ability will be the best recommen- 
 dation," said the Squire, as he parted from them at his 
 door, having given Ben the letter. 
 
 Miss Celia had been gone a fortnight, and every one 
 was longing to have her back. The first week brought 
 Ben a newspaper, with a crinkly hue di'awn round the 
 marriages to attract attention to that spot, and one was 
 marked by a black fi-ame with a lai^e hand pointing at 
 It from the margin. Thorny sent that ; but the next 
 week came a parcel for IVIrs. Moss, and in. it was dis- 
 covered a box of wedding-cake for every member of the 
 family, including Sancho, who ate his at one gulp, and 
 chewed up the lace paper which covered it. This was 
 the third week ; and, as if there could not be happiness 
 enough crowded into it for Ben, the letter he read on 
 his way home told him that his dear mistress was com- 
 ing back on the following Saturday. One passage par- 
 ticularly pleased him, — 
 
 " I want the great gate opened, so that the new 
 
mE GREAT GATE IS OPENED. 297 
 
 aiaster may go in that way. Will you see that it is 
 done, and all made neat afterward? Randa will give 
 you the key, and you may have out all your flags if 
 you like, for the old place cannot look too gay for this 
 home-coming." 
 
 Sunday though it was, Ben could not help waving the 
 letter over his head as he ran in to tell Mrs. Moss tho 
 fkd news, and begin at once to plan the welcome they 
 would give Miss Ceha, for he never called her any thing 
 else. 
 
 During their afternoon stroll in the mellow sunshine, 
 Ben continued to talk of her, never tired of telling about 
 his happy summer under her roof. And Mr. Brown was 
 never weary of hearing, for every hour showed him 
 more plainly what a lovely miracle her gentle words 
 had wrought, and every hour increased his gratitude, 
 his desire to return the kindness in some humble way. 
 He had his wish, and did his part handsomely when he 
 least expected to have a chance. 
 
 On Monday he saw Mr. Towne, and, thanks to the 
 Squire's good word, was engaged for a month on trial, 
 making himself so useful that it was soon evident he 
 was the right man in the right place. He lived on the 
 hill, but managed to get down to the httle brown house 
 in the evening for a word with Ben, who just now waa 
 as full of business as if the President and his Cabinet 
 were coming. 
 
 Every thing was put in apple-pie order in and about 
 the old house ; the great gate, with much creaking of 
 rusty hinges and some clearing away of rubbish, was 
 set wide open, and the first creature who entered it 
 was k^ancho, solemnlv dragging the dead mullein which 
 13* 
 
298 UNDER THE LILACS, 
 
 long ago had gi'own above the key-hole. October frosts 
 seemed to have spared some of the brightest leaves ft>r 
 this especial occasion ; and on Saturday the arched 
 gate-way was hung with gay wreaths, red and yellow 
 eprays strewed the flags, and the porch was a blaze of 
 color with the red woodbine, that was in its glory when 
 the honeysuckle was leafless. 
 
 Fortunately it was a half-holiday, so the children 
 oould trim and chatter to their heart's content, and the 
 little girls ran about sticking funny decorations where 
 no one would ever think of looking for them. Ben was 
 absorbed in his flags, which were sprinkled all down 
 the avenue with a lavish display, suggesting several 
 Fourth of Julys rolled into one. Mr. Brown had come 
 to lend a hand, and did so most energetically, for the 
 break-neck things he did with his son during the dec- 
 oration fever would have terrified Mrs. Moss out of her 
 wits, if she had not been in the house giving last touches 
 to every room, while Randa and Katy set forth a sump- 
 tuous tea. 
 
 A^ was going well, and the train would be due m 
 an hour, when luckless Bab nearly turned the rejoic» 
 ing into mourning, the feast into ashes. She heard 
 her mother say to Randa, ' ' There ought to be a fire in 
 every room, it looks so cheerful, and the air is chilly 
 spite of the sunshine ; " and, never w^aiting to hear the 
 reply that some of the long-unused chimneys were not 
 safe till cleaned, ofl" went Bab with an apron full of old 
 shingles, and made a roaring blaze in the front room 
 fire-place, which was of all others the one to be let alone, 
 as the flue was out of order. Charmed with the brilliant 
 light and the crackle of the tindery fuel, Miss Bab re- 
 
THE GREAT GATE IS OPENED. 299 
 
 filled her apron, and fed the fire till the chimney began 
 to rumble ominously, sparks to fly out at the top, and 
 soot and swallows' nests to come tumbling down upon 
 the hearth Then, scared at what she had done, the 
 little mischief-maker hastily buried her fire, swept up the' 
 rubbish, and ran off, thinking no one would discover hei 
 prank if she never told. 
 
 Everybody was very busy, and the big chimney blazed 
 and rumbled unnoticed till the cloud of smoke caught 
 Ben's eye as he festooned his last effort in the flag 
 line, part of an old sheet with the words " Father has 
 come ! " in red cambric letters half a foot long sewed 
 upon it. 
 
 " Hullo ! I do believe they've got up a bonfire with- 
 out asking my leave. Miss Celia never would let us, 
 because the sheds and roofs are so old and dry ; I must 
 see about it. Catch me, Daddy, I 'm coming down ! " 
 cried Ben, dropping out of the elm with no more thought 
 of where he might hght than a squirrel swinging from 
 bough to bough. 
 
 His father caught him, and followed in haste as his 
 nimble-footed son raced up the avenue, to stop in the 
 gate-way, frightened at the prospect before him, for 
 falling sparks had already kindled the roof here and 
 there, and the chimney smoked and roai*ed like a small 
 volcano, while Kat/s wails and Randa's cries for watei 
 came from within. 
 
 "Up there with wet blankets, while I get out the 
 hose ! " cried Mr. Brown, as he paw at a glance wha+ 
 the danger was. 
 
 Ben vanished ; and, before his father got the garden 
 hose rigged, he was on the roof with a dripping blanket 
 
800 UNDER THE LILACS 
 
 over the worst spot. Mrs. Moss had her wits about 
 her in a minute, and ran to put in the fire- board, and 
 stop the draught. Then, stationing Randa to watch 
 that the falling cinders did no harm inside, she hurried 
 off to help Mr. Brown, who might not know where things 
 were. But he had roughed it so long, that he was the 
 man for emergencies, and seemed to lay his hand or 
 whatever was needed, by a sort of instinct. Finding 
 that the hose was too short to reach the upper part of 
 the roof, he was on the roof in a jifff with two pails 
 of water, and quenched the most dangerous spots before 
 much harm was done. This he kept up till the chimney 
 burned itself out, while Ben dodged about among the 
 gables with a watering-pot, lest some stray sparks should 
 be overlooked, and break out afresh. 
 
 While they worked there, Betty ran to and fro with 
 a dipper of water, tr}ing to help ; and Sancho barked 
 violently, as if he objected to this sort of illumination. 
 But where was Bab, who revelled in flurries? No one 
 missed her till the fij-e was out, and the tired, sooty 
 people met to talk over the danger just escaped. 
 
 " Poor Miss Celia wouldn't have had a roof over her 
 head, if it hadn't been for you, Mr. Brown," saic 
 Mrs. Moss, sinking into a kitchen chair, pale with the 
 excitement. 
 
 "It would have burnt lively, but I guess it's all 
 right now. Keep an eye on the roof, Ben, and I'll 
 step up garret and see if all's safe there. Didn't 
 you know that chimney was foul, ma'am?" asked the 
 man, as he wiped the perspiration off his grimy 
 face. 
 
 '' Rand& said it was, and I'm surprised she made a 
 
THE GREAT GATE IS OPENED. 301 
 
 fire there," began Mrs. Moss, looking at the maid, who 
 Just then came in with a pan full of soot. 
 
 '' Bless you, ma'am, I never thought of such a thing, 
 nor Katy neither. That naughty Bab must have done 
 It, and so don't dar'st to show herself," answered the 
 irate Randa, whose nice room was in a mess. 
 
 " Where is the child?" asked her mother ; and a hunt 
 was immediately instituted by Betty and Sancho, while 
 the elders cleared up. 
 
 Anxious Betty searched high and low, called and 
 cried, but all in vain; and was about to sit down in 
 despair, when Sancho made a bolt into his new kennel 
 and brought out a shoe with a foot in it while a doleful 
 squeal came from the straw within. 
 
 "Oh, Bab, how could you do it? Ma was fright- 
 ened dreadfully," said Betty, gently tugging at the 
 striped leg, as Sancho poked his head in for another 
 shoe. 
 
 "Is it all burnt up?" demanded a smothered voice 
 from the recesses of the kennel. 
 
 " Only pieces of the roof. Ben and his father put it 
 out, and / helped," answered Betty, cheering up a Uttle 
 as she recalled her noble exertions. 
 
 "What do they do to folks who set houses afire?* 
 asked the voice again. 
 
 " I don't know ; but you needn't be afraid, there isn'1 
 much harm done, I guess, and Miss Celia will forgive 
 you, she 's so good." 
 
 "Thorny won't; he calls me a * botheration,* and I 
 guess I am," mourned the unseen culprit, with sincere 
 contrition. 
 
 " I '11 ask him ; he is always good to me They will 
 
B02 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 be here pretty soon, so you 'd better come out and be 
 made tidy," suggested the comforter. 
 
 " I never can come out, for every one will hate me,' 
 «obbed Bab among the straw, as she pulled in her foot, 
 as if retuing for ever from an outraged world. 
 
 •'Ma won't, she's too busy cleaning up; so it's s 
 good time to come. Let 's run home, wash our hands, 
 and be all nice when they see us. I '11 love you, no 
 matter what anybody else does," said Betty, consoling 
 the poor little sinner, and proposing the sort of repent- 
 ance most hkely to find favor in the eyes of the 
 agitated elders. 
 
 " P'raps I 'd better go home, for Sanch will want his 
 bed," and Bab gladly availed herself of that excuse to 
 back out of her refuge, a very cnimpled, dusty young 
 lady, with a dejected face and much straw sticking in 
 her hair. 
 
 Betty led her sadly away, for she still protested that 
 she never should dare to meet the offended pubhc again • 
 but in fifteen minutes both appeared in fine order and 
 good spirits, and naughty Bab escaped a lecture for the 
 time being, as tlie train would soon be due. 
 
 At the first sound of the car whistle every one turned 
 good-natured as if by magic, and flew to the gate 
 smiling as if all mishaps were forgiven and forgotten. 
 Mrs. Moss, however, slipped quietly away, and was 
 the first to greet Mrs. Celia as the can-iage stopped at 
 the entrance of the avenue, so that the luggage might 
 go in by way of the lodge. 
 
 '' We will walk up and you shall tell us the news as 
 we go, for I see you have some," said the young lady, 
 ill her friendly manner, when Mrs. Moss had given hci 
 
THE GREAT GATE IS OPENED. 303 
 
 «7elcome and paid her respects to the gentleman who 
 shook hands in a way that convinced her he was indeed 
 what Thorny called him, "regularly jolly," though he 
 was a minister. 
 
 That being exactly what she came for, the good 
 woman told her tidings as rapidly as possible, and the 
 aew-comers were so glad to hear of Ben's happiness 
 they made very light of Bab's bonfire, though it had 
 nearly burnt their house down. 
 
 " We won't saj^ a word about it, for every one must 
 be happy to-day," said Mr. George, so kindly that Mrs. 
 Moss felt a load taken off her heart at once. 
 
 " Bab was alwaj's teasing me for fire-works, but 1 
 guess she has had enough for the present," laughed 
 Thorny, who was gallantly escorting Bab's mother up 
 the avenue. 
 
 " Every one is so kind ! Teacher was out with the 
 children to cheer us as we passed, and here you all aie 
 making things pretty for me," said Mrs. Celia, smiling 
 with tears in her eyes, as they drew near the great 
 gate, which certainly did present an animated if not an 
 imposing appearance. 
 
 Randa and Katy stood on one side, all in their best, 
 bobbing delighted courtesies ; Mr. Brown, half hidden 
 behind the gate on the other side, was keeping Sancho 
 3rect, so that he might present arms promptly when the 
 bride appeared. As flowers were scarce, on either post 
 stood a rosy little girl clapping her hands, while out 
 from the thicket of red and yellow boughs, which made a 
 grand bouquet in the lantern frame, came Ben's head 
 and shoulders, as he waved his grandest flag with its 
 gold paper " Welcome Home ! " on a blue ground 
 
304 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 " Isn't it beautiful ! *' cned Mrs. Celia, throwiug 
 to the children, shaking hands witJi her maids, and 
 glancing brightly at the stranger who was Jieeping 
 Sanch quiet. 
 
 *' Most people adorn their gate-posts with stone balls, 
 vases, or gi'iffins ; your living images are a great 3n- 
 provement, love, especially the happy boy in the 
 aiiddle," said Mr. George, eying Ben with interest, as 
 he nearly tumbled overboard, top-heavy with his 
 banner. 
 
 •' You must finish what I have only begim," answered 
 Ceha, adding gajdy as Sancho broke loose and came 
 to offer both his paw and his congratulations, " Sanch, 
 introduce jo\u master, that I may thank him for com- 
 ing back in time to save my old house." 
 
 "If I 'd saved a dozen it wouldn't have half paid for 
 all you've done for my boy, ma'am," answered I^Ir. 
 Brown, bm'sting out from behind the gate quite red with 
 gratitude and pleasm-e. 
 
 " I loved to do it, so please remember that this 
 is still his home till you make one for him. Thank 
 God, he is no longer fatherless ! " and her sweet face 
 said even more than her words as the white hand cor- 
 dially shook the brown one with a burn across the 
 back. 
 
 " Come on, sister. I see the tea-table all ready, and 
 I*m awfully hungry," interrupted Thorny, who had not 
 a ray of sentiment about him, though very glad Ben had 
 got his father back again. 
 
 " Come over, by and by, little friends, and let me 
 thank you for your pretty welcome, — it certainly is a 
 warm one ; " and Mrs. Celia glanced merrily from the 
 
THE GREAT GATE IS OPENED. 305 
 
 three bright faces above her to the old chimney, which 
 still smoked sullenly. 
 
 •' Oh, don't ! " cried Bab, hiding her face. 
 
 ** She didn't mean to," added Betty, pleadingly. 
 
 ** Three cheers for the bride ! " roared Ben, dipping 
 Ms flag, as leaning on her husband's arm his dear mis- 
 tress passed under the gay arch, along the leaf-strewn 
 walk, over the threshold of the house which was to be 
 her happy home for many years. 
 
 The closed gate where the lonely little wanderer once 
 lay was always to stand open now, and the path where 
 children played before was free to aU comers, for a hos- 
 pitable welcome henceforth awaited rich and poor, 
 young and old, sad and gay, Under the Lilacs. 
 
 University Press ; John Wilson & Son, Cambridge. 
 
THE LITTLE WOMEN SERIES 
 
 BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT 
 
 Miss Alcott is really a benefactor of households. — H. H. 
 
 
 LITTLE WOMEN. 
 LITTLE MEN. 
 EIGHT COUSINS. 
 UNDER THE LILACS. 
 
 AN OLD-FASHIONED GIRL. 
 
 JO'S BOYS. 
 
 ROSE IN BLOOM. 
 
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WORKS BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT 
 
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 By Ednah D. Cheney. With Portraits. i6mo. Cloth. ^1.50. 
 
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 WORK, A STORY OF EXPERIENCE. 
 
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THE SPINNING-WHEEL SERIES 
 
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 CONTENTS. 
 
 SPINNING-WHEEL STORIES. Grandma's Story ; Tabby's Table- 
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AUNT JO'S SCRAP-BAG 
 
 BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT 
 
 SIR JOSEPH PORTER, K.C.B. 
 
 COUSIN HEBB. 
 
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 JIMMY'S CRUISE IN THE PINAFORE. Two Little Travellers ; 
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 Pilgrims better, by far, than thee or me." 
 
 — Preface. 
 
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