s talents and virtues
made him universally admired and beloved. Miss Celia advertised,
Thorny offered rewards, and even surly Pat kept a sharp look-out for
poodle dogs when he went to market; but no Sancho or any trace of him
appeared. Ben was inconsolable, and sternly said it served Bab right
when the _dog_-wood poison affected both face and hands. Poor Bab
thought so, too, and dared ask no sympathy from him, though Thorny
eagerly prescribed plantain leaves, and Betty kept her supplied with
an endless succession of them steeped in cream and pitying tears. This
treatment was so successful that the patient soon took her place in
society as well as ever, but for Ben's affliction there was no cure,
and the boy really suffered in his spirits.

[Illustration: BEN AND LITA AT THE BROOK.]

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

"Oh, come now, don't give up so, old fellow. We'll find him if he's
alive, and if he isn't I'll try and get you another as good,"
answered Thorny, with a friendly slap on the shoulder, as Ben sat
disconsolately among 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 ever try to fill his place with the best
and biggest dog that ever wagged a tail! No, sir, there's only one
Sanch in all the world, and if I can't have him I'll never have a dog
again."

"Try some other sort of a pet, then. You may have any 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 care about 'em, thank
you," replied the mourner.

"Have the rabbits, all of them," which was a handsome offer on
Thorny's part, for there were a dozen at least.

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

"So am I! Guess we'll have an auction and sell out. 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 of generosity.

"Jack couldn't be with me always, as Sanch was,