ound him on the broad piazza, attracted by the
rumor that "one of Uncle Dud's stories" was in prospect. Little Elsie
crept into his lap as he began:

"I don't think I have ever told you anything of my poor friend Ben, but
he played a very important part in many of the pranks and sports and
joys and sorrows of my earlier boyhood. I think that, outside of my own
family, my attachment to him was the strongest I have ever formed.
People used to laugh at us, and call him my younger brother, we showed
so much affection for each other."

"Was he a son of your neighbor?" asked Hal.

"No, not his son, but his home was with our nearest neighbor. It was
never known who his parents were. He came to Mr. Washburn's house one
day, nobody knew where from; but he attracted the attention of all by
his fine bright, honest face. I shall never forget the look of his great
earnest brown eyes; I used to think they expressed more in a minute than
some folks could talk in an hour. Then he had soft hair--this you
see--brown, with the least tinge of auburn through it, and was most
graceful in his movements. He would strike any one as a handsome
fellow."

"What did he come for, uncle? Do you mean that he was a beggar? Did he
ask for food?"

"He didn't ask for anything, but it was easy to see what he needed, and
country hospitality was not likely to wait till he asked. He staid about
there a few days, and made friends with every one. Before long he seemed
to have quietly grown to be almost one of the family, and I think they
would have been as sorry to lose him as he would to go. He and I 'took
to' each other at once, and I owe many of the happiest hours of my boy
life to his companionship, for I had no brother near my own age."

"And did your parents really allow you to make a companion of such a
little tramp?" asked Hal, with a slight sniff, and a toss of the head
which he conceived to be rather aristocratic. "How did they know what
kind of a fellow he might have been?"

"Well, they never seemed to fear any harm coming to me through him. Ben
showed a much better disposition than I ever did. He was very gentle in
his manners, always inclined to yield to me in everything, giving me my
own way to an extent which unfortunately fostered my tendency to be
domineering and overbearing. It was this trait in my character which led
to the incident I am about to tell you of.

"In the summer vacations he and I--"

"Excuse me for interrupting you, U