When recess came, great was the rejoicing of the children over their
unexpected treat, for Mrs. Moss had few pennies to spare for sweets,
and, somehow, this candy tasted particularly nice, bought out of
grateful Ben's solitary dime. The little girls shared their goodies with
their favorite mates, but said nothing about the new arrangement,
fearing it would be spoilt if generally known. They told their mother,
however, and she gave them leave to lend their books and encourage Ben
to love learning all they could. She also proposed that they should drop
patch-work, and help her make some blue shirts for Ben. Mrs. Barton had
given her the materials, and she thought it would be an excellent lesson
in needle-work as well as a useful gift to Ben,--who, boy-like, never
troubled himself as to what he should wear when his one suit of clothes
gave out.

Wednesday afternoon was the sewing time; so the two little B's worked
busily at a pair of shirt-sleeves, sitting on their bench in the
doorway, while the rusty needles creaked in and out, and the childish
voices sang school-songs, with frequent stoppages for lively chatter.

For a week, Ben worked away bravely, and never shirked nor complained,
although Pat put many a hard or disagreeable job upon him, and chores
grew more and more distasteful. His only comfort was the knowledge that
Mrs. Moss and the Squire were satisfied with him; his only pleasure the
lessons he learned while driving the cows, and recited in the evening
when the three children met under the lilacs to "play school."

He had no thought of studying when he began, and hardly knew that he was
doing it as he pored over the different books he took from the library.
But the little girls tried him with all they Possessed, and he was
mortified to find how ignorant he was. He never owned it in words, but
gladly accepted all the bits of knowledge they offered from their small
store; getting Betty to hear him spell "just for fun;" agreeing to draw
Bab all the bears and tigers she wanted if she would show him how to do
sums on the flags, and often beguiled his lonely labors by trying to
chant the multiplication table as they did. When Tuesday night came
round, the Squire paid him a dollar, said he was "a likely boy," and
might stay another week if he chose. Ben thanked him and thought he
would; but the next morning, after he had put up the bars, he remained
sitting on the top rail to consider his prospects, for he felt