ncle Dud; but how did this Ben get
along at school?"

"Well, he never went to school--"

"Never went to school? Why, didn't those folks he lived with give him
any advantages?"

"--But I don't think any one seemed to consider him neglected. He was
naturally very quick of perception, and had a wonderful faculty of
gathering information from his surroundings. He seemed so well fitted
for whatever duties fell to him, that I don't believe any one thought it
necessary to send him to school."

"What was he good for, anyhow?"

"He made himself generally useful and agreeable. He used to drive cows,
dig in the garden, etc., and as the family grew fond of him, they used
to take him out with them a great deal."

"They must have been a queer set, though, to let him grow to be a man in
ignorance."

"Ben never got to be a man. But I agree with you, Hal, that a man
without education, or a boy either, is a poor thing."

"Oh, did Ben die young?" said Hal, with a soberer face.

"Yes. I _did_ take him to school with me once--what a tricky young
rascal I must have been! He walked to the school-house door with me, and
I forced him in--much against his will it was, but I always made him
mind me. I seated him in the master's chair, and ordered him to stay
there, while I went to my seat. Of course the boys all laughed, and poor
Ben trembled and looked imploringly at me, but I shook my fist at him to
make him sit still. Presently the master came in. He was a
quick-tempered man, and when he saw what was going on, how mad he was!
He snatched up a rule, but Ben was too smart for him. He sprang from the
chair and went out of the half-open window at one bound, with an awful
crash of glass and sash, and was off swift as the wind. Then the master
tried to find out who was in fault, but could get no further than the
truth that he belonged to none of us. No one told of me, so I missed the
thrashing which would have been so willingly bestowed."

"I think it was right mean of you to treat Ben so, uncle."

"I think so too, and that wasn't my worst treatment of him, as you shall
hear.

"A small river formed the boundary of one side of my father's farm. On
its bank, in one spot which was surrounded and sheltered by a thick
growth of willows, Ben and I used to spend many an hour. He was an
excellent swimmer, and very fond of the water. One morning we were
having a merry time; we swam, dived, and rowed in the lovely sunshine.
At last I picked up