CHAPTER XI SUNDAY

hanaffectionateglanceatthelittlebookinherlap,— "Icouldn'tunderstanditbutthatstorywasjustelegant.There'smoreandI'dadmiretoread'em,ifIcould." "I'mgladyoulikethemandwewillkeeptherestforanothersermon-time.Thornyusedtodoso,andalwayscalledthishis'pewbook.'Idon'texpectyoutounderstandmuchthatyouhearyetawhilebutitisgoodtobethere,andafterreadingthesestoriesyouwillbemoreinterestedwhenyouhearthenamesofthepeoplementionedhere." "Yes,'m.Wasn'tDavidafinefeller?Ilikedallaboutthekidandthecornandthetencheeses,andkillin'thelionandbear,andslingin'oldGoliathdeadfirstshot.IwanttoknowaboutJosephnexttime,forIsawagangofrobbersputtin'himinahole,anditlookedrealinteresting." MissCeliacouldnothelpsmilingatBen'swayoftellingthingsbutshewaspleasedtoseethathewasattractedbythemusicandthestories,andresolvedtomakechurch-goingsopleasantthathewouldlearntoloveitforitsownsake. "Now,youhavetriedmywaythismorning,andwewilltryyoursthisafternoon.ComeoveraboutfourandhelpmerollThornydowntothegrove.Iamgoingtoputoneofthehammocksthere,becausethesmellofthepinesisgoodforhim,andyoucantalkorreadoramuseyourselvesinanyquietwayyoulike." "CanItakeSanchalong?Hedoesn'tliketobeleft,andfeltrealbadbecauseIshuthimup,forfearhe'dfollowandcomewalkin'intomeetin'tofindme." "Yes,indeedletthecleverBow-wowhaveagoodtimeandenjoySundayasmuchasIwantmyboysto." Quitecontentwiththisarrangement,Benwenthometodinner,whichhemadeverylivelybyrecountingBillyBarton'singeniousdevicestobeguilethetediumofsermontime.HesaidnothingofhisconversationwithMissCelia,becausehehadnotquitemadeuphismindwhetherhelikeditornotitwassonewandserious,hefeltasifhehadbetterlayitby,tothinkoveragooddealbeforehecouldunderstandallaboutit.Buthehadtimetogetdismalagain,andlongforfouro'clockbecausehehadnothingtodoexceptwhittle.Mrs.MosswenttotakeanapBabandBettysatdemurelyontheirbenchreadingSundaybooksnoboyswereallowedtocomeandplayeventhehensretiredunderthecurrant-bushes,andthecockstoodamongthem,cluckingdrowsily,asifreadingthemasermon. "Dreadfulslowday!"thoughtBenand,retiringtotherecessesofhisownroom,hereadoverthetwoletterswhichseemedalreadyoldtohim.Nowthatthefirstshockwasover,hecouldnotmakeittruethathisfatherwasdead,andhegaveuptryingforhewasanhonestboy,andfeltthatitwasfoolishtopretendtobemoreunhappythanhereallywas.Soheputawayhisletters,tooktheblackpocketoffSanch'sneck,andallowedhimselftowhistlesoftlyashepackeduphispossessions,readytomovenextday,withfewregretsandmanybrightanticipationsforthefuture. "Thorny,IwantyoutobegoodtoBen,andamusehiminsomequietwaythisafternoon.ImuststayandseetheMorrises,whoarecomingoverbutyoucangotothegroveandhaveapleasanttime,"saidMissCeliatoherbrother. "Notmuchfunintalkingtothathorseyfellow.I'msorryforhim,butIcan'tdoanythingtoamusehim,"objectedThorny,pullinghimselfupfromthesofawithagreatyawn. "YoucanbeveryagreeablewhenyoulikeandBenhashadenoughofmeforthistime.To-morrowhewillhavehiswork,anddoverywellbutwemusttrytohelphimthroughto-day,becausehedoesn'tknowwhattodowithhimself.Besides,itisjustthetimetomakeagoodimpressiononhim,whilegriefforhisfathersoftenshim,andgivesusachance.Ilikehim,andI'msurehewantstodowellsoitisourdutytohelphim,asthereseemstobenooneelse." "Heregoes,then!Whereishe?"andThornystoodup,wonbyhissister'ssweetearnestness,butverydoubtfulofhisownsuccesswiththe"horseyfellow." "Waitingwiththechair.Randahasgoneonwiththehammock.Beadearboy,andI'lldoasmuchforyousomeday." "Don'tseehowyoucanbeadearboy.You'rethebestsisterthateverwassoI'llloveallthescallywagsyouaskmeto." Withalaughandakiss,Thornyshambledofftoascendhischariot,good-humoredlysalutinghispusher,whomhefoundsittingonthehighrailbehind,withhisfeetonSanch. "Driveon,Benjamin.Idon'tknowtheway,soIcan'tdirect.Don'tspillmeout,—that'sallI'vegottosay." "Allright,sir,"—andawayBentrundleddownthelongwalkthatledthroughtheorchardtoalittlegroveofsevenpines. Apleasantspotforasoftrustlefilledtheair,abrowncarpetofpineneedles,withfallenconesforapattern,layunderfootandoverthetopsofthetallbrakesthatfringedtheknollonehadglimpsesofhillandvalley,farm-housesandwindingriver,likeasilverribbonthroughthelow,greenmeadows. "Aregularsummerhouse!"saidThorny,surveyingitwithapproval."What'sthematter,Randa?Won'titdo?"heasked,asthestoutmaiddroppedherarmswithapuff,aftervainlytryingtothrowthehammockropeoverabranch. "Thatendwentupbeautiful,butthisonewon'tthebranchesissohigh,Ican'treach'emandI'mnohandatflingingropesround." "I'llfixit"andBenwentupthepinelikeasquirrel,tiedastoutknot,andswunghimselfdownagainbeforeThornycouldgetoutofthechair. "Mypatience,whataspryboy!"exclaimedRanda,admiringly. "That'snothingyououghttoseemeshinupasmoothtent-pole,"saidBen,rubbingthepitchoffhishands,withaboastfulwagofthehead. "Youcango,Randa.Justhandmemycushionandbooks,BenthenyoucansitinthechairwhileItalktoyou,"commandedThorny,tumblingintothehammock. "What'shegoin'tosaytome?"wonderedBentohimself,ashesatdownwithSanchsprawlingamongthewheels. "Now,Ben,Ithinkyou'dbetterlearnahymnIalwaysusedtowhenIwasalittlechap,anditisagoodthingtodoSundays,"beganthenewteacher,withapatronizingair,whichruffledhispupilasmuchastheopprobriousterm"littlechap." "I'llbe—whew—ifIdo!"whistledBen,stoppinganoathjustintime. "Itisnotpolitetowhistleincompany,"saidThorny,withgreatdignity. "MissCeliatoldmeto.I'llsay'confoundit,'ifyoulikethatbetter,"answeredBen,asaslysmiletwinkledinhiseyes. "Oh,Isee!She'stoldyouaboutit?Well,then,ifyouwanttoplea