't it bully!" he exclaimed. "I believe I shall die of laughing.
I wish Paul had been here to see it. Mrs. Mudge has got herself into a
scrape, now, I'm thinking."

Having attained a safe distance from the Poorhouse, Ben doubled himself
up and rolled over and over upon the grass, convulsed with laughter.

"I'd give five dollars to see it all over again," he said to himself. "I
never had such splendid fun in my life."

Presently the Squire emerged, his tall dicky looking decidedly limp and
drooping, his face expressing annoyance and outraged dignity. Mrs. Mudge
attended him to the door with an expression of anxious concern.

"I guess I'd better make tracks," said Ben to himself, "it won't do for
the old gentleman to see me here, or he may smell a rat."

He accordingly scrambled over a stone wall and lay quietly hidden behind
it till he judged it would be safe to make his appearance.

XVIII.

MORE ABOUT BEN.

"Benjamin," said Squire Newcome, two days after the occurrence mentioned
in the last chapter, "what made the dog howl so this morning? Was you a
doing anything to him?"

"I gave him his breakfast," said Ben, innocently. "Perhaps he was
hungry, and howling for that."

"I do not refer to that," said the Squire. "He howled as if in pain or
terror. I repeat; was you a doing anything to him?"

Ben shifted from one foot to the other, and looked out of the window.

"I desire a categorical answer," said Squire Newcome.

"Don't know what categorical means," said Ben, assuming a perplexed
look.

"I desire you to answer me IMMEGIATELY," explained the Squire. "What was
you a doing to Watch?"

"I was tying a tin-kettle to his tail," said Ben, a little reluctantly.

"And what was you a doing that for?" pursued the Squire.

"I wanted to see how he would look," said Ben, glancing demurely at his
father, out of the corner of his eye.

"Did it ever occur to you that it must be disagreeable to Watch to have
such an appendage to his tail?" queried the Squire.

"I don't know," said Ben.

"How should you like to have a tin pail suspended to your--ahem! your
coat tail?"

"I haven't got any coat tail," said Ben, "I wear jackets. But I think I
am old enough to wear coats. Can't I have one made, father?"

"Ahem!" said the Squire, blowing his nose, "we will speak of that at
some future period."

"Fred Newell wears a coat, and he isn't any older than I am," persisted
Ben, who was desirous of interrupting hi