o them. "Let us see, do
Ben!"

"What is it?" exclaimed Van, squeezing in between Percy and Ben.

"Don't--" began Percy. "There, see, you've knocked his elbow and spoilt
it!"

"Oh no, he hasn't," said Ben, putting down his pencil, and taking up a
piece of rubber. "There, see it all comes out--as good as ever."

"Isn't it just elegant?" said Percy in the most pleased tone, and
wriggling his toes under the table to express his satisfaction.

"Yes," said Van, craning his neck to get a better view of the picture,
now nearly completed, "It's perfectly splendid. How'd you do it, Ben?"

"I don't know," replied Ben with a smile, carefully shading in a few
last touches. "It just drew itself."

"Tisn't anything to what he can do," said Polly, standing up as tall as
she could, and beaming at Ben, "He used to draw most beautiful at home."

"Better than this?" asked Van, with great respect and taking up the
picture, after some demur on Percy's part, and examining it critically.
"I don't believe it, Polly."

"Phooh; he did!" exclaimed Joel, looking over his shoulder at a
wonderful view of a dog in an extremely excited state of mind running
down an interminable hill to bark at a locomotive and train of cars
whizzing along a curve in the foreground. "Lots better'n that! Ben can
do anything!" he added, in an utterly convincing way.

"Now give it back," cried Percy, holding out his hand in alarm. "I'm
going to ask mamma to have it framed; and then I'm going to hang
it right over my bed," he finished, as Van reluctantly gave up the
treasure.

"Did you draw all the time in the little brown house?" asked Van, lost
in thought. "How I wish I'd been there!"

"Dear, no!" cried Polly with a little skip, turning away to laugh. "He
didn't have hardly any time, and--"

"Why not?" asked Percy.

"Cause there was things to do," said Polly. "But sometimes when it
rained, and he couldn't go out and work, and there wasn't anything to
do in the house--then we'd have--oh!" and she drew a long breath at the
memory, "such a time, you can't think!"

"Didn't you wish it would always rain?" asked Van, still gazing at the
picture.

"Dear, no!" began Polly.

"I didn't," broke in Joel, in horror. "I wouldn't a-had it rain for
anything!--only once in a while," he added, as he thought of the good
times that Polly had spoken of.

"'Twas nice outdoors," said little Davie, reflectively; "and nice
inside, too." And then he glanced over to his moth