ly."

"What does that mean?"

"Do you not study your dictionary at school, Benjamin?"

"Yes, but I don't like it much."

"You are very much in error. You will never learn to employ your tongue
with elegance and precision, unless you engage in this beneficial
study."

"I can use my tongue well enough, without studying grammar," said Ben.
He proceeded to illustrate the truth of this assertion by twisting his
tongue about in a comical manner.

"Tongue," exclaimed his father, "is but another name for language I mean
your native language."

"Oh!"

Ben was about to leave the room to avoid further questions of an
embarrassing nature, when his father interrupted his exit by saying--

"Stay, Benjamin, do not withdraw till I have made all the inquiries
which I intend."

The boy unwillingly returned.

"You have not answered my question."

"I've forgotten what it was."

"What good would it do?" asked the Squire, simplifying his speech to
reach Ben's comprehension, "what good would it do to teach the kitten to
swim?"

"O, I thought," said Ben, hesitating, "that some time or other she might
happen to fall into the water, and might not be able to get out unless
she knew how."

"I think," said his father with an unusual display of sagacity, "that
she will be in much greater hazard of drowning while learning to swim
under your direction than by any other chance likely to befall her."

"Shouldn't wonder," was Ben's mental comment, "Pretty cute for you,
dad."

Fortunately, Ben did not express his thoughts aloud. They would have
implied such an utter lack of respect that the Squire would have been
quite overwhelmed by the reflection that his impressive manners had
produced no greater effect on one who had so excellent a chance of being
impressed by them.

"Benjamin," concluded his father, "I have an errand for you to execute.
You may go to Mr. Prescott's and see if he is yet living. I hear that he
is a lying on the brink of the grave."

An expression of sadness stole over the usually merry face of Ben, as he
started on his errand.

"Poor Paul!" he thought, "what will he do when his father dies? He's
such a capital fellow, too. I just wish I had a wagon load of money, I
do, and I'd give him half. That's so!"

II.

PAUL PRESCOTT'S HOME.

We will precede Ben on his visit to the house of Mr. Prescott.

It was an old weather-beaten house, of one story, about half a mile
distant from 'Squire Newcome's r