never did swear very bad, and I didn't mind much till I came here;
but Bab and Betty looked so scared when I said 'damn,' and Mrs. Moss
scolded me so, I tried to leave off. It's dreadful hard, though, when I
get mad. 'Hang it!' don't seem half so good if I want to let off steam."

"Thorny used to 'confound!' every thing, so I proposed that he should
whistle instead; and now he sometimes pipes up so suddenly and shrilly
that it makes me jump. How would that do, instead of swearing?" proposed
Miss Celia, not the least surprised at the habit of profanity, which the
boy could hardly help learning among his former associates.

Ben laughed, and promised to try it, feeling a mischievous satisfaction
at the prospect of out-whistling Master Thorny, as he knew he should;
for the objectionable words rose to his lips a dozen times a day.

The Ben was ringing as they drove into town; and, by the time Lita was
comfortably settled in her shed, people were coming up from all quarters
to cluster around the steps of the old meeting-house like bees about a
hive. Accustomed to a tent, where people kept their hats on, Ben forgot
all about his, and was going down the aisle covered, when a gentle hand
took it off, and Miss Celia whispered, as she gave it to him,--

"This is a holy place; remember that, and uncover at the door."

Much abashed, Ben followed to the pew, where the Squire and his wife
soon joined them.

"Glad to see him here," said the old gentleman with an approving nod, as
he recognized the boy and remembered his loss.

"Hope he won't nestle round in meeting-time," whispered Mrs. Allen,
composing herself in the corner with much rustling of black silk.

"I'll take care that he doesn't disturb you," answered Miss Celia,
pushing a stool under the short legs, and drawing a palm-leaf fan within
reach.

Ben gave an inward sigh at the prospect before him; for an hour's
captivity to an active lad is hard to bear, and he really did want to
behave well. So he folded his arms and sat like a statue, with nothing
moving but his eyes. They rolled to and fro, up and down, from the high
red pulpit to the worn hymnbooks in the rack, recognizing two little
faces under blue-ribboned hats in a distant pew, and finding it
impossible to restrain a momentary twinkle in return for the solemn wink
Billy Barton bestowed upon him across the aisle. Ten minutes of this
decorous demeanor made it absolutely necessary for him to stir; so he
unfolded h