f a tree, and,
rolling down the bank, landed in a bed of wet nettles. Ben had her
out in a jiffy, and vainly tried to comfort her; but she was past
any consolation 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 everything is _so_ horrid!" wailed the
poor child lying 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'll tell
Ma all about it, and she'll 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 _I_ ever shall, I'm so tired my legs wont go, and the
water in my boots makes them feel dreadfully. I wish that boy would
wheel me a piece. Don't you s'pose he would?" asked Bab, wearily
picking 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 come 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 with masculine brevity.

"Got to carry this home, hang the old thing!"

"Where to?"

"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, distrusting such unusual
neighborliness.

"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! she's most as heavy as a
bag of meal," jeered the tal