Ben was inconsolable, and sternly said itserved Bab right when the dogwood poison affectedboth face and hands. Poor Bab thought so, too,and dared ask no sympathy from him, though Thornyeagerly prescribed plantain leaves, and Betty kept hersupplied with an endless succession of them steepedin cream and pitying tears. This treatment was sosuccessful that the patient soon took her place insociety as well as ever, but for Ben's affliction there wasno cure, and the boy really suffered in his spirits.

 

　　"I don't think it's fair that I should have so muchtrouble, -- first losing father and then Sanch. If itwasn't for Lita and Miss Celia, I don't believe I couldstand it," he said, one day, in a fit of despair, about aweek after the sad event.

 

　　"Oh, come now, don't give up so, old fellow. We'llfind him if he s alive, and if he isn't I'll try and getyou another as good," answered Thorny, with afriendly slap on the shoulder, as Ben sat disconsolatelyamong the beans he had been hoeing.

 

　　"As if there ever could be another half as good!"cried Ben, indignant at the idea; "or as if I'd evertry to fill his place with the best and biggest dog thatever wagged a tail! No, sir, there's only one Sanchin all the world, and if I can't have him I'll neverhave a dog again.""Try some other sort of pet, then. You may haveany of mine you like. Have the peacocks; do now,"urged Thorny, full of boyish sympathy and good-will.

 

　　"They are dreadful pretty, but I don't seem to careabout em, thank you," replied the mourner.

 

　　"Have the rabbits, all of them," which was a handsomeoffer on Thorny's part, for there were a dozenat least.

 

　　"They don't love a fellow as a dog does; all theycare for is stuff to eat and dirt to burrow in. I'msick of rabbits." And well he might be, for he hadhad the charge of them ever since they came, andany boy who has ever kept bunnies knows what acare they are.

 

　　"So am I! Guess we'll have an auction and sellout. Would Jack be a comfort to you? If he will,you may have him. I'm so well now, I can walk,or ride anything," added Thorny, in a burst ofgenerosity.

 

　　"Jack couldn't be with me always, as Sanch was,and I couldn't keep him if I had him."Ben tried to be grateful, but nothing short of Litawould have healed his wounded heart, and she wasnot Thorny's to give, or he would probably haveoffered her to his afflicted friend.

 

　　"Well, no, you couldn't take Jack to bed with you,or keep him up in your room, and I'm afraid heWould never learn to do any thing clever. I do wishI had something you wanted, I'd so love to give it toyou."He spoke so heartily and was so kind that Ben lookedup, feeling that he had given him one of the sweetestthings in the world -- friendship; he wanted to tell himso, but did not know how to do it, so caught up his hoeand fell to work, saying, in a tone Thorny understoodbetter than words, --"You are real good to me -never mind, I won'tworry about it; only it seems extra hard coming so soonafter the other--"He stopped there, and a bright drop fell on the beanleaves, to shine like dew till Ben saw clearly enough tobury it out of sight in a great flurry.

 

　　"By Jove! I'll find that dog, if he is out of theground. Keep your spirits up, my lad, and we'll havethe dear old fellow back yet."With which cheering prophecy Thorny went off torack his brains as to what could be done about thematter.

 

　　Half an hour afterward, the sound of a hand-organ inthe avenue roused him from the brown study into whichhe had fallen as he lay on the newly mown grass of thelawn. Peeping over the wall, Thorny reconnoitred,and, finding the organ a good one, the man a pleasant-faced Italian, and the monkey a lively animal, heordered them all in, as a delicate attention to Ben,for music and monkey together might suggest soothingmemories of the past, and so be a comfort.

 

　　In they came by way of the Lodge, escorted by Baband Betty, full of glee, for hand-organs were rare inthose parts, and the children delighted in them. Smilingtill his white teeth shone and his black eyessparkled, the man played away while the monkeymade his pathetic little bows, and picked up the penniesThorny threw him.

 

　　"It is warm, and you look tired. Sit down and I'llget you Some dinner," said the young master, pointingto the seat which now stood near the great gate.

 

　　With thanks in broken English the man gladlyobeyed, and Ben begged to be allowed to make Jackoequally comfortable, explaining that he knew all aboutmonkeys and what they liked. So the poor thing wasfreed from his cocked hat and uniform, fed with breadand milk, and allowed to curl himself up in the coolgrass for a nap, looking so like a tired littie old manin a fur coat that the children were never weary ofwatching him.

 

　　Meantime, Miss Celia had come out, and was talkingItalian to Giacomo in a way that delighted hishomesick heart. She had been to Naples, and couldunderstand his longing for the lovely city of his birth,so they had a little chat in the language which is allMusic, andd the good fellow was so grattful that heplayed for the children to dance till they were glad tostop, lingering afterward as if he hated to set out againupon his lonely, dusty walk.

 

　　"I'd rather like to tramp round with him for a weekor so. Could make enough to live on as easy as not,if I only I had sanch to show off," said Ben, as he wascoaxing Jacko into the suit which he detested.

 

　　"You go wid me, yes?" asked the man, nodding andsmiling, well pleased at the prospect of company, forhis quick eye and what the boys let fall in their talkshowed him that Ben was not one of them.

 

　　If I had my dog I'd love to," and with sad eagernessBen told the tale of his loss, for the thought of itwas never long out of his mind.

 

　　"I tink I see droll dog like he, way off in New York.

 

　　He do leetle trick wid letter, and dance, and go on hehead, and many tings to make laugh," said the man,when he had listened to a list of Sanch's beauties andaccomplishments.

 

　　"Who had him? " asked Thorny, full of interest atonce.

 

　　"A man I not know. Cross fellow what beat himwhen he do letters bad.""Did he spell his name?" cried Ben, breathlessly.

 

　　"No; that for why man beat him. He name Generale,and he go spell Sancho all times, and cry whenwhip fall on him. Ha! yes! that name true one; notGenerale? " and the man nodded, waved his hands,and showed his teeth, almost as much excited as theboys.

 

　　"It's Sanch! let's go and get him now, right off!

 

　　cried Ben, in a fever to be gone.

 

　　"A hundred miles away, and no clue but this man'sstory? We must wait a little, Ben, and be sure beforewe set out," said Miss Celia, ready to do almost anything, but not so certain as the boys. " What sort ofa dog was it? A large, curly, white poodle, with aqueer tail ?" she asked of Giacomo.

 

　　"No, Signorina mia, he no curly, no wite; he black,smooth dog, littel tail, small, so;" and the man heldup one brown finger with a gesture which suggested ashort, wagging tail.

 

　　"There, you see how mistaken we were. Dogs areoften named Sancho, especially Spanish poodles; forthe original Sancho was a Spaniard, you know. Thisdog is not ours, and I'm so sorry."The boys' faces had fallen dismally as their hope wasdestroyed; but Ben would not give up. For him therewas and could be only one Sancho in the world, andhis quick wits suggested an explanation which no oneelse thought of.

 

　　"It may be my dog, -- they color 'em as we used topaint over trick horses. I told you he was a valuablechap, and those that stole him hide him that way, elsehe'd be no use, don't you see? because we'd knowhim.""But the black dog had no tail," began Thorny,longing to be convinced, but still doubtful.

 

　　Ben shivered as if the mere thought hurt him, as hesaid, in a grim tone, --"They might have cut Sanch's off.""Oh, no! no! they mustn't, -- they wouldn't!

 

　　How Could any one be so wicked?" cried Bab andBetty, horrified at the suggestion.

 

　　"You don't know what such fellows would do tomake all safe, so they could use a dog to earn theirliving for 'em," said Ben, with mysterious significance,quite forgetting in his wrath that be had just proposedto get his own living in that way himself.

 

　　"He no your dog? Sorry I not find him for you.

 

　　Addio, signorina! Grazia, signor! Buon giorno, buongiorno!" and, kissing his hand, the Italian shoulderedorgan and monkey, ready to go.

 

　　Miss Celia detained him long enough to give himher address, and beg him to let her know if he metpoot Sanch in any of his wanderings; for such itinerantshowmen often cross each other's paths. Ben andThorny walked to the school-corner with him, gettingmore exact information about the black dog and hisowner, for they had no intention of giving it up sosoon.

 

　　That very evening, Thorny wrote to a boy cousinin New York, giving all the particulars of the case,and begging him to hunt up the man, investigate thedog, and see that the police made sure that every thingwas right. Much relieved by this performance, theboys waited anxiously for a reply, and when it camefound little comfort in it. Cousin Horace had donehis duty like a man, but regretted that he could onlyreport a failure. The owner of the black poodle wasa suspicious character, but told a straight story, howhe had bought the dog from a stranger, and exhibitedhim with success till he was stolen. Knew nothing ofhis history, and was very sorry to lose him, for hewas a remarkably clever beast.

 

　　"I told my dog-man to look about for him, but hesays he has probably been killed, with ever so manymore; so there is an end of it, and I call it a meanshame.""Good for Horace! I told you he'd do it upthoroughly and see the end of it," said Thorny, ashe read that paragraph in the deeply interesting letter.

 

　　"May be the end of that dog, but not of mine.

 

　　I'll bet he ran away; and if it was Sanch, he'll comehome. You see if he doesn't!" cried Ben, refusingto believe that all was over.

 

　　"A hundred wiles off? Oh, he couldn't find youwithout help, smart as he is," answered Thorny,incredulously.

 

　　Ben looked discouraged, but Miss Celia cheeredhim up again by saying, --"Yes, he could. My father had a friend who lefta little dog in Paris; and the creature found her inMilan, and died of fatigue next day. That was verywonderful, but true; and I've no doubt that if Sanchis alive he will come home. Let us hope so, and behappy, while we wait.""We will!" said the boys; and day after daylooked for the wanderer's return, kept a bone readyin the old place if he should arrive at night, andshook his mat to keep it soft for his weary boneswhen he came. But weeks passed, and still noSanch.

 

　　Something else happened, however, so absorbingthat he was almost forgotten for a time; and Benfound a way to repay a part of all he owed his bestfriend.

 

　　Miss Celia went off for a ride one afternoon, and anhour afterward, as Ben sat in the porch reading, Litadashed into the yard with the reins dangling abouther legs, the saddle turned round, and one side coveredwith black mud, showing that she had beendown. For a minute, Ben's heart stood still; thenhe flung away his book, ran to the horse, and saw atonce by her heaving flanks, dilated nostrils, and wetcoat, that she must have come a long way and at fullspeed.

 

　　"She has had a fall, but isn't hurt or frightened,"thought the boy, as the pretty creature rubbed her noseagainst his shoulder, pawed the ground, and champedher bit, as if she tried to tell him all about thedisaster, whatever it was.

 

　　"Lita, where's Miss Celia?" he asked, lookingstraight into the intelligent eyes, which were troubledbut not wild.

 

　　Lita threw up her head, and neighed loud andclear, as if she called her mistress; and, turning, wouldhave gone again if Ben had not caught the reins andheld her.

&............