ecognizing the boy as one of the "hill
fellows" who came to town Saturday nights for play or business.

"Hullo, Brown!" responded the other, arresting his squeaking progress
with signs of surprise at the moist tableau before him.

"Where goin'?" asked Ben with masculine brevity.

"Got to carry this home, hang the old thing."

"Where to?"

"Batchelor's, down yonder," and the boy pointed to a farm-house at the
foot of the next hill.

"Goin' that way, take it right along."

"What for?" questioned the prudent youth, distrusting such unusual
neighborliness.

"She's tired, wants a ride; I'll leave it all right, true as I live and
breathe," explained Ben, half ashamed yet anxious to get his little
responsibility home as soon as possible, for mishaps seemed to thicken.

"Ho, you couldn't cart her all that way! she's most as heavy as a bag of
meal," jeered the taller lad, amused at the proposition.

"I'm stronger than most fellers of my size. Try, if I ain't," and Ben
squared off in such scientific style that Joslyn responded with sudden
amiability,--

"All right, let's see you do it."

Bab huddled into her new equipage without the least fear, and Ben
trundled her off at a good pace, while the boy retired to the shelter of
a barn to watch their progress, glad to be rid of an irksome errand.

At first, all went well, for the way was down hill, and the wheel
squeaked briskly round and round; Bab smiled gratefully upon her bearer,
and Ben "went in on his muscle with a will," as he expressed it. But
presently the road grew sandy, began to ascend, and the load seemed to
grow heavier with every step.

"I'll get out now. It's real nice, but I guess I am too heavy," said
Bab, as the face before her got redder and redder, and the breath began
to come in puffs.

"Sit still. He said I couldn't. I'm not going to give in with him
looking on," panted Ben, and he pushed gallantly up the rise, over the
grassy lawn to the side gate of the Batchelors' door-yard, with his head
down, teeth set, and every muscle of his slender body braced to the
task.

"Did ever ye see the like of that now? Ah, ha!

"The streets were so wide, and the lanes were so narry,
He brought his wife home on a little wheelbarry,"

sung a voice with an accent which made Ben drop his load and push back
his hat, to see Pat's red head looking over the fence.

To have his enemy behold him then and there was the last bitter drop in
poor Ben's cu