XVIII.
MORE ABOUT BEN.
"Benjamin," said Squire Newcome, two days after the occurrence mentionedin the last chapter, "what made the dog howl so this morning? Was you adoing anything to him?"
"I gave him his breakfast," said Ben, innocently. "Perhaps he washungry, and howling for that."
"I do not refer to that," said the Squire. "He howled as if in pain orterror. I repeat; was you a doing anything to him?"
Ben shifted from one foot to the other, and looked out of the window.
"I desire a categorical answer," said Squire Newcome.
"Don't know what categorical means," said Ben, assuming a perplexedlook.
"I desire you to answer me IMMEGIATELY," explained the Squire. "What wasyou a doing to Watch?"
"I was tying a tin-kettle to his tail," said Ben, a little reluctantly.
"And what was you a doing that for?" pursued the Squire.
"I wanted to see how he would look," said Ben, glancing demurely at hisfather, out of the corner of his eye.
"Did it ever occur to you that it must be disagreeable to Watch to havesuch an appendage to his tail?" queried the Squire.
"I don't know," said Ben.
"How should you like to have a tin pail suspended to your--ahem! yourcoat tail?"
"I haven't got any coat tail," said Ben, "I wear jackets. But I think Iam old enough to wear coats. Can't I have one made, father?"
"Ahem!" said the Squire, blowing his nose, "we will speak of that atsome future period."
"Fred Newell wears a coat, and he isn't any older than I am," persistedBen, who was desirous of interrupting his father's inquiries.
"I apprehend that we are wandering from the question," said the Squire."Would you like to be treated as you treated Watch?"
"No," said Ben, slowly, "I don't know as I should."
"Then take care not to repeat your conduct of this morning," said hisfather. "Stay a moment," as Ben was about to leave the room hastily. "Idesire that you should go to the post-office and inquire for letters."
"Yes, sir."
Ben left the room and sauntered out in the direction of the post-office.
A chaise, driven by a stranger, stopped as it came up with him.
The driver looked towards Ben, and inquired, "Boy, is this the way toSparta?"
Ben, who was walking leisurely along the path, whistling as he went,never turned his head.
"Are you deaf, boy?" said the driver, impatiently. "I want to know ifthis is the road to Sparta?"
Ben turned round.
"Fine morning, sir," he said politely.
"I know that well enough without your telling me. Will you tell mewhether this is the road to Sparta?"
Ben put his hand to his ear, and seemed to listen attentively. Then heslowly shook his head, and said, "Would you be kind enough to speak alittle louder, sir?"
"The boy is deaf, after all," said the driver to himself. "IS THIS THEROAD TO SPARTA?"
"Yes, sir, this is Wrenville," said Ben, politely.
"Plague take it! he don't hear me yet. IS THIS THE ROAD TO SPARTA?"
"Just a little louder, if you please," said Ben, keeping his hand to hisear, and appearing anxious to hear.
"Deaf as a post!" muttered the driver. "I couldn't scream any louder, ifI should try. Go along."
"Poor man! I hope he hasn't injured his voice," thought Ben, his eyesdancing with fun. "By gracious!" he continued a moment later, burstinginto a laugh, "if he isn't going to ask the way of old Tom Haven. He'sas deaf as I pretended to be."
The driver had reined up again, and inquired the way to Sparta.
"What did you say?" said the old man, putting his hand to his ear. "I'mrather hard of hearing."
The traveller repeated his question in a louder voice.
The old man shook his head.
"I guess you'd better ask that boy," he said, pointing to Ben, who bythis time had nearly come up with the chaise.
"I have had enough of him," said the traveller, disgusted. "I believeyou're all deaf in this town. I'll get out of it as soon as possible."
He whipped up his horse, somewhat to the old man's surprise, and droverapidly away.
I desire my young readers to understand that I am describing Ben as hewas, and not as he ought to be. There is no doubt that he carried hislove of fun too far. We will hope that as he grows older, he will growwiser.
Ben pursued the remainder of his way to the Post-office without anyfurther adventure.
Entering a small building appropriated to this purpose, he inquired forletters.
"There's nothing for your father to-day," said the post-master.
"Perhaps there's something for me,--Benjamin Newcome, Esq.," said Ben.
"Let me see," said the post-master, putting on his spectacles; "yes, Ibelieve there is. Post-marked at New York, too. I didn't know you hadany correspondents there."
"It's probably from the Mayor of New York," said Ben, in a tone ofcomical importance, "asking my advice about laying out Central Park."
"Probably it is," said the postmaster. "It's a pretty thickletter,--looks like an official document."
By this time, Ben, who was really surprised by the reception of theletter, had opened it. It proved to be from our hero, Paul Prescott, andinclosed one for Aunt Lucy.
"Mr. Crosby," said Ben, suddenly, addressing the postmaster, "youremember about Paul Prescott's running away from the Poorhouse?"
"Yes, I didn't blame the poor boy a bit. I never liked Mudge, and theysay his wife is worse than he."
"Well, suppose the town should find out where he is, could they get himback again?"
"Bless you! no. They ain't so fond of supporting paupers. If he's ableto earn his own living, they won't want to interfere with him."
"Well, this letter is from him," said Ben. "He's found a pleasant familyin New York, who have adopted him."
"I'm glad of it," said Mr. Crosby, heartily. "I always liked him. He wasa fine fellow."
"That's just what I think. I'll read his letter to you, if you wouldlike to hear it."
"I should, very much. Come in behind here, and sit down."
Ben went inside the office, and sitting down on a stool, read Paul'sletter. As our reader may be interested in the contents, we will takethe liberty of looking over Ben's shoulder while he reads.
New York, Oct. 10, 18--.
DEAR BEN:--
I have been intending to write to you before, knowing the kind interestwhich you take in me. I got safely to New York a few days after I leftWrenville. I didn't have so hard a time as I expected, having fallen inwith a pedler, who was very kind to me, with whom I rode thirty or fortymiles. I wish I had time to tell all the adventures I met with on theway, but I must wait till I see you.
When I got to the city, I was astonished to find how large it was. Thefirst day I got pretty tired wandering about, and strayed into a churchin the evening, not knowing where else to go. I was so tired I fellasleep there, and didn't wake up till morning. When I found myselflocked up in a great church, I was frightened, I can tell you. It wasonly Thursday morning, and I was afraid I should have to stay theretill Sunday. If I had, I am afraid I should have starved to death. But,fortunately for me, the sexton came in the morning, and let me out. Thatwasn't all. He very kindly took me home with him, and then told me Imight live with him and go to school. I like him very much, and his wifetoo. I call them Uncle Hugh and Aunt Hester. When you write to me, youmust direct to the care of Mr. Hugh Cameron, 10 R---- Street. Then itwill be sure to reach me.
I am going to one of the city schools. At first, I was a good dealtroubled because I was so far behind boys of my age. You know I hadn'tbeen to school for a long time before I left Wrenville, on account offather's sickness. But I studied pretty hard, and now I stand very well.I sometimes think, Ben, that you don't care quite so much about studyas you ought to. I wish you would come to feel the importance of it. Youmust excuse me saying this, as we have always been such good friends.
I sometimes think of Mr. and Mrs. Mudge, and wonder whether they missme much. I am sure Mr. Mudge misses me, for now he is obliged to get upearly and milk, unless he has found another boy to do it. If he has, Ipity the boy. Write me what they said about my going away.
I inclose a letter for Aunt Lucy Lee, which I should like to have yougive her with your own hands. Don't trust it to Mrs. Mudge, for shedoesn't like Aunt Lucy, and I don't think she would give it to her.
Write soon, Ben, and I will answer without delay, Your affectionatefriend, PAUL PRESCOTT.
"That's a very good letter," said Mr. Crosby; "I am glad Paul is doingso well. I should like to see him."
"So should I," said Ben; "he was a prime fellow,--twice as good as I am.That's true, what he said about my not liking study. I guess I'll try todo better."
"You'll make a smart boy if you only try," said the postmaster,with whom Ben was rather a favorite, in spite of his mischievouspropensities.
"Thank you," said Ben, laughing, "that's what my friend, the mayor ofNew York, often writes me. But honestly, I know I can do a good dealbetter than I am doing now. I don't know but I shall turn over a newleaf. I suppose I like fun a little too well. Such jolly sport as I hadcoming to the office this morning."
Ben related the story of the traveller who inquired the way to Sparta,much to the amusement of the postmaster, who, in his enjoyment of thejoke, forgot to tell Ben that his conduct was hardly justifiable.
"Now," said Ben, "as soon as I have been home, I must go and see myparticular friend, Mrs. Mudge. I'm a great favorite of hers," he added,with a sly wink.
Paul Prescott's Charge Page 18
