"That's as pretty a little span as I've seen for along time," said the elder Ben, as the children cametrotting down the path hand in hand, with the fourblue bows at the ends of their braids bobbing brisklyup and down.

 

　　"The nigh one is my favorite, but the off one isthe best goer, though she's dreadfully hard bitted,"answered Ben the younger, with such a comical assumptionof a jockey's important air that his fatherlaughed as he said in an undertone, --"Come, boy, we must drop the old slang sincewe've given up the old business. These good folksare making a gentleman of you, and I won't be theone to spoil their work. Hold on, my dears, and I'llshow you how they say good-moining in California,"he added, beckoning to the litlle girls, who now cameup rosy and smiling.

 

　　"Breakfast is ready, sir," said Betty, looking muchrelieved to find them.

 

　　"We thought you'd run away from us," explainedBab, as both put out their hands to shake thoseextended to them.

 

　　"That would be a mean trick. But I'm going torun away with you," and Mr. Brown whisked a littlegirl to either shoulder before they knew what hadhappened, while Ben, remembering the day, withdifficulty restrained himself from turning a seriesof triumphant somersaults before them all the wayto the door, where Mrs. Moss stood waiting forthem.

 

　　After breakfast Ben disappeared for a short time,and returned in his Sunday suit, looking so neat andfresh that his father surveyed him with surprise andpride as he came in full of boyish satisfaction in histrim array.

 

　　"Here's a smart young chap! Did you take allthat trouble just to go to walk with old Daddy?"asked Mr. Brown, stroking the smooth head, for theywere alone just then, Mrs. Moss and the childrenbeing up stairs preparing for church.

 

　　"I thought may be you'd like to go to meetingfirst," answered Ben, looking up at him with such ahappy face that it was hard to refuse any thing.

 

　　I'm too shabby, Sonny, else I'd go in a minuteto please you.""Miss Celia said God didn't mind poor clothes, andshe took me when I looked worse than you do. Ialways go in the morning; she likes to have me," saidBen, turning his hat about as if not quite sure whathe ought to do.

 

　　"Do you want to go?" asked his father in a toneof surprise.

 

　　"I want to please her, if you don't mind. Wecould have our tramp this afternoon.""I haven't been to meeting since mother died, andit don't seem to come easy, though I know I oughtto, seeing I'm alive and here," and Mr. Brown lookedsoberly out at the lovely autumn world as if glad tobe in it after his late danger and pain.

 

　　"Miss Celia said church was a good place to takeour troubles, and to be thankful in. I went when Ithought you were dead, and now I'd love to go whenI've got my Daddy safe again,"No one saw him, so Ben could not resist giving hisfather a sudden hug, which was warmly returned asthe man said earnestly, --"I'll go, and thank the Lord hearty for giving meback my boy better'n I left him!"For a minute nothing was heard but the loud tickof the old clock and a mournful whine front Sancho,shut up in the shed lest he should go to church withoutan invitation.

 

　　Then, as steps were heard on the stairs, Mr. Browncaught up his hat, saying hastily, --"I ain't fit to go with them, you tell 'm, and I'llslip into a back seat after folks are in. I know theway." And, before Ben could reply, he was gone.

 

　　Nothing was seen of him along the way, but he sawthe little party, and rejoiced again over his boy,changed in so many ways for the better; for Benwas the one thing which had kept his heart softthrough all the trials and temptations of a rough life.

 

　　"I promised Mary I'd do my best for the poorbaby she had to leave, and I tried; but I guess abetter friend than I am has been raised up for himwhen he needed her most. It won't hurt me to followhim in this road," thought Mr. Brown, as he cameout into the highway from his stroll "across-lots,"feeling that it would be good for him to stay in thisquiet place, for his own as well as his son's sake.

 

　　The Bell had done ringing when he reached thegreen, but a single boy sat on the steps and rail tomeet him, saying, with a reproachful look, --"I wasn't going to let you be alone, and have folksthink I was ashamed of my father. Come, Daddy,we'll sit together."So Ben led his father straght to the Squire's pew,and sat beside him with a face so full of innocent prideand joy, that people would have suspected the truthif he had not already told many of them. Mr. Brown,painfully conscious of his shabby coat, was rather"taken aback," as he expressed it; but the Squire'sshake of the hand, and Mrs. Allen's gracious nodenabled him to face the eyes of the interestedcongregation, the younger portion of which stared steadilyat him all sermon time, in spite of paternal frownsand maternal tweakings in the rear.

 

　　But the crowning glory of the day came afterchurch, when the Squire said to Ben, and Sam heardhim, --"I've got a letter for you from Miss Celia. Comehome with me, and bring your father. I want to talkto him."The boy proudly escorted his parent to the oldcarry-all, and, tucking hiniself in behind with Mrs.

 

　　Allen, had the satisfaction of seeing the slouched felthat side by side with the Squire's Sunday beaver infront, as they drove off at such an unusually smartpace, it was evident that Duke knew there was acritical eye upon him. The interest taken in the fatherwas owing to the son at first; but, by the time thestory was told, old Ben had won friends for himselfnot only because of the misfortunes which he hadevidently borne in a manly way, but because of hisdelight in the boy's improvement, and the desire hefelt to turn his hand to any honest work, that he mightkeep Ben happy and contented in this good home.

 

　　"I'll give you a line to Towne. Smithers spokewell of you, and your own ability will be the bestrecommendation," said the Squire, as he parted fromthem at his door, having given Ben the letter.

 

　　Miss Celia had been gone a fortnight, and everyone was longing to have her back. The first weekbrought Ben a newspaper, with a crinkly line drawnround the marriages to attract attention to that spot,and one was marked by a black frame with a largehand pointing at it from the margin. Thorny sentthat; but the next week came a parcel for Mrs. Moss,and in it was discovered a box of wedding cake forevery member of the family, including Sancho, whoate his at one gulp, and chewed up the lace paperwhich covered it. This was the third week; and, asif there could not be happiness enough crowded intoit for Ben, the letter he read on his way home toldhim that his dear mistress was coming back on thefollowing Saturday. One passage particularly pleasedhim, --"I want the great gate opened, so that the newmaster may go in that way. Will you see that it isdone, and all made neat afterward? Randa will giveyou the key, and you may have out all your flags ifyou like, for the old place cannot look too gay forthis home-coming."Sunday though it was, Ben could not help wavingthe letter over his head as he ran in to tell Mrs. Mossthe glad news, and begin at once to plan the welcomethey would give Miss Celia, for he never called herany thing else.

 

　　During their afternoon stroll in the mellow sunshine,Ben continued to talk of her, never tired oftelling about his happy summer under her roof. AndMr. Brown was never weary of hearing, for every hourshowed him more plainly what a lovely miracle hergentle words had wrought, and every hour increasedhis gratitude, his desire to return the kindness insome humble way. He had his wish, and did hispart handsomely when he least expected to have achance.

 

　　On Monday he saw Mr. Towne, and, thanks to theSquire's good word, was engaged for a month ontrial, making himself so useful that it was soon evidenthe was the right man in the right place. He lived onthe hill, but managed to get down to the little brownhouse in the evening for a word with Ben, who justnow was as full of business as if the President andhis Cabinet were coming.

 

　　Every thing was put in apple-pie order in andabout the old house; the great gate, with much creakingof rusty hinges and some clearing away of rubbish,was set wide open, and the first creature who enteredit was Sancho, solemnly dragging the dead mulleinwhich long ago had grown above the keyhole. Octoberfrosts seemed to have spared some of thebrightest leaves for this especial occasion; and onSaturday the arched gate-way was hung with gaywreaths, red and yellow sprays strewed the flags, andthe porch was a blaze of color with the red woodbine,that was in its glory when the honeysuckle was leafless.

 

　　Fortunately it was a half-holiday, so the childrencould trim and chatter to their heart's content, andthe little girls ran about sticking funny decorationswhere no one would ever think of looking for them.

 

　　Ben was absorbed in his flags, which were sprinkledall down the avenue with a lavish display, suggestingseveral Fourth of Julys rolled into one. Mr. Brownhad come to lend a hand, and did so most energetically,for the break-neck things he did with his sonduring the decoration fever would have terrified Mrs.

 

　　Moss out of her wits, if she had not been in the housegiving last touches to every room, while Randa andKaty set forth a sumptuous tea.

 

　　All was going well, and the train would be due inan hour, when luckless Bab nearly turned the rejoicinginto mourning, the feast into ashes. She heardher mother say to Randa, "There ought to be a firein every room, it looks so cheerful, and the air ischilly spite of the sunshine;" and, never waiting tohear the reply that some of the long-unused chimneyswere not safe till cleaned, off went Bab with an apronfull of old shingles, and made a roaring blaze in thefront room fire-place, which was of all others theone to be let alone, as the flue was out of order.

 

　　Charmed with the brilliant light and the crackle ofthe tindery fuel, Miss Bab refilled her apron, and fedthe fire till the chimney began to rumble ominously,sparks to fly o............