als" were to do the boy when he needed comfort for a sorrow
which was very near.

CHAPTER X

A HEAVY TROUBLE

"Thank you, ma'am, that's a tip-top book, 'specially the pictures. But
I can't bear to see these poor fellows;" and Ben brooded over the fine
etching of the dead and dying horses on a battle-field, one past all
further pain, the other helpless, but lifting his head from his dead
master to neigh a farewell to the comrades who go galloping away in a
cloud of dust.

"They ought to stop for him, some of 'em," muttered Ben, hastily turning
back to the cheerful picture of the three happy horses in the field,
standing knee-deep among the grass as they prepare to drink at the wide
stream.

"Ain't that black one a beauty? Seems as if I could see his mane blow
in the wind, and hear him whinny to that small feller trotting down to
see if he can't get over and be sociable. How I'd like to take a rousin'
run round that meadow on the whole lot of 'em!" and Ben swayed about in
his chair as if he was already doing it in imagination.

"You may take a turn round my field on Lita any day. She would like it,
and Thorny's saddle will be here next week," said Miss Celia, pleased to
see that the boy appreciated the fine pictures, and felt such hearty
sympathy with the noble animals whom she dearly loved herself.

"Needn't wait for that. I'd rather ride bareback. Oh, I say, is this
the book you told about, where the horses talked?" asked Ben, suddenly
recollecting the speech he had puzzled over ever since he heard it.

"No; I brought the book, but in the hurry of my tea-party forgot to
unpack it. I'll hunt it up to-night. Remind me, Thorny."

"There, now, I've forgotten something, too! Squire sent you a letter;
and I'm having such a jolly time, I never thought of it."

Ben rummaged out the note with remorseful haste, protesting that he was
in no hurry for Mr. Gulliver, and very glad to save him for another day.
Leaving the young folks busy with their games, Miss Celia sat in the
porch to read her letters, for there were two; and as she read her face
grew so sober, then so sad, that if any one had been looking he would
have wondered what bad news had chased away the sunshine so suddenly. No
one did look; no one saw how pitifully her eyes rested on Ben's happy
face when the letters were put away, and no one minded the new
gentleness in her manner as she came back, to the table. But Ben thought
there never was so sweet