ill, "a great deal more like Sunday than the inside of the
meeting-house," Clifton declared. But Ben shook his head.

"That's one of the loose notions you've learned at college. Your sister
believes in going to meetings, and so does Aunt Betsey."

So did Clifton it seemed, for there was a good deal more said after
that, and they quite agreed that whether it was altogether agreeable or
not, it was quite right that people generally should go to church,
rather than to the river, as they had done. How it happened, Ben hardly
knew, but in a little while they found themselves in Seth Fairweather's
boat, and were paddling up the river, out and in among the shadows, past
the open fields and the cedar swamp to the point where the Ythan Burn
fell into the Beaver. They paddled about a while upon the Pool, as a
sudden widening of the channel of the river was called, till the heat of
the sun sent them in among the shadows again. Then Clifton leaned back
at his ease, while Ben waved about a branch of odorous cedar to keep the
little black flies away.

"Now tell me all about it, Cliff," said he.

Clifton winced, but put a bold face on the matter, and told in as few
words as possible the story of his having been sent home. It was not a
pleasant story to tell, though he had been less to blame than some
others who had escaped punishment altogether. But sitting there in the
shadow of the cedars, with Ben's great eyes upon him, he felt more sorry
and ashamed, and more angry at himself, and those who had been concerned
with him in his folly, than ever he had felt before.

"The fun didn't pay that time, did it, Cliff?" said Ben. "I don't
believe it ever does--that kind of fun."

"That's what Aunt Betsey says, eh?" said Clifton. "Well, she's about
right."

"And you'll never do so, any more; will you, Cliff?"

Clifton laughed.

"But, Cliff, you are almost a man now, you are a man, and it don't pay
in the long run to drink and have a good time. It didn't pay in my
father's case, and Aunt Betsey says--"

"There, that will do. I would rather hear Aunt Betsey's sermons from
her own lips, and I am going up to the Hill some time soon."

There was silence between them for a little while, then Ben said:

"There's a meeting up in the Scott school-house 'most every Sunday
afternoon, Cliff; suppose we go up there, and then I can tell Aunt
Betsey all about it."

Clifton had no objections to this plan; so pushing the boat in among