e a dog to equal him in the neighborhood when he was
grown up, but the old man had not been moved.

There were tears in Benjamin's pretty blue eyes, but his square chin
looked squarer. He tried to speak again. "Grandsir--" he began.

"Not another word," said his grandfather.

Benjamin looked past his grandfather into the kitchen. His mother sat in
there stemming currants. He went around to the other door and entered,
dragging the puppy after him.

"Mother," he said, in a low voice, "can't I keep him?"

His grandfather in the east door looked around suspiciously, but he
could hear nothing; he was somewhat deaf.

"No; not if your grandfather don't want you to," said his mother; "you
know I can't let you, Benjamin."

The puppy was whining piteously, and Benjamin seemed to echo it when he
spoke. "I don't see why he don't want me to. It ain't as if Caesar was a
common puppy. You ask him, mother."

"No," returned his mother; "it won't do any good. You know how much he
thinks of Seventoes, and the dog might kill him when he was grown."

"Wouldn't care if he did," muttered Benjamin; "nothing but a cross old
stealing cat; don't begin to be worth what this puppy is."

"Now, Benjamin, you mustn't talk any more about it," said his mother,
severely. "Grandsir does too much for you and me for you to make any
fuss about a thing like this. Take that puppy and run right along with
it, as he tells you to."

Grandsir's suspicions suddenly took shape then. "Benjamin, you run right
along," he called out; "don't stand there teasing your mother about it."

So Benjamin gathered the puppy up into his arms with a jerk--it was
impossible to lead him any distance--and plunged out of the house. He
gave two or three little choking sobs as he hurried along. It was a hot
day, and he was tired and disappointed and discouraged. He had walked
three miles over to the village and back to get that puppy, and now he
had to walk a mile more to give it away. He had no doubt whatever as to
the disposal of it; he knew Sammy Tucker would give it a hearty welcome,
for there was an understanding to that effect. Benjamin had been a
little doubtful as to the reception the puppy might have from his
grandfather; but when Mr. Dyer, who kept the village grocery store, had
offered it to him three weeks before, he had not had the courage to
refuse. Sammy Tucker, too, had been in the store, buying three bars of
soap for his mother, and he had looked on admiring