to her.

"Does anybody live in it?" asked the little girl.

"No, I don't think it would be a very pleasant place to live in."

"What did they build it for, then?"

Ben explained that a great battle had been fought on the hill
where the monument stood.

"Do they fight any battles there now, Ben?" asked Emma, in some
apprehension.

"Why? Are you afraid of getting killed?"

"Yes."

"There is no danger. It is over a hundred years since there was
any fighting there."

Just then the car stopped, and a new passenger got on and sat
down just opposite Ben and his young charge. Ben did not take
special notice of her, and was surprised to hear a familiar voice.

"I declare, if it ain't the little gal,"

Looking up, he recognized the old lady, his fellow passenger.

"How do you do, ma'am?" he said.

"Putty well. Where be you goin'?"

"Over to Bunker Hill."

"I'm goin' to Charleston, myself. My son is away with his wife,
and I'm goin' over to stay with my niece till he comes back. How
do you do, little gal?"

"Pretty well," said Emma.

"You don't know me, do you?"

It was an unfortunate question.

"Yes, I do. You're the lady that takes snuff," said Emma.

Some of the passengers tittered, and the old lady turned red in the
face.

"Well, I never did!" she exclaimed, in mortification. "You're a
bad-behaved little gal."

"She didn't mean to offend you, ma'am," said Ben. "She's very
young."

"She's old enough to behave. Children didn't use to sass their
elders like they do now. If one of my children was to behave so,
I'd shut 'em up in a dark closet for twenty-four hours, with only
dry bread to eat."

The old lady shook her head vigorously, and glared at Emma over
the top of her spectacles. It was just as well, perhaps, that Emma
was absorbed in looking out of the window, and did not listen to
what the old lady was saying. Being a high-spirited and free-spoken
young woman, she would have been likely to reply, and that would
have made matters worse.

The ride was not a long one, for but a narrow bridge separates
Boston proper from the historic town of Charleston.

"You get out here," said the conductor. "Go up that street to the
monument."

Ben could see the great stone pillar standing up against the sky in
plain sight, and he ascended the hilly street toward it.

"That is the monument, Emma," he said.

"It looks like a big chimney," said Emma; "only chimneys are made
of brick."