re
within a few miles. And now let us count them----"

He was stopped here in the middle of a sentence, by the yelp of the dog
Trip, and both turned to see what was the matter with him, when Sam
shouted:

"Look here, Frank, dogs are falling. Trip has taken the shortest cut
down hill this time."

"Good!" added Ben. "I wish all the dogs were kicked after him." And both
Sam and Ben seemed to glory in the calamity that had befallen Trip.

Frank and Nat stood appalled when they saw what the trouble was. Sam had
kicked Trip down the precipitous side of the hill, where there was a
fearful plunge of thirty or forty feet; and there he lay motionless upon
his side. Although they stood so far above the dog, it was very evident
that he was dead. Frank burst into tears as the unwelcome truth flashed
upon his mind that Trip was no more. It was a full, overflowing gush of
grief from the bottom of his heart. Nat felt badly to see the dog
killed, and also at seeing the grief into which Frank was plunged, and
_he_ began to weep also; and there the two boys cried as sincerely over
the lifeless dog, as ever friend shed tears over the corpse of friend.

"Well done, now, if I ain't beat!" exclaimed Sam. "Crying over a dead
dog! Better save your tears for his funeral, Frank. I'll preach his
funeral sermon if you'll name a text. And you come in second mourner, do
you, Nat?"

"Second mourner or not," answered Nat, wiping his eyes, and roused by
the scene into a magnanimous self-defence, "if I was in Frank's place,
your father should know of this."

"Well, 'spose he does know it, what do you think I care?" responded Sam.
"I'd like to see the old man calling me to an account for killing a
dog."

"So should I like to see him do it," quickly added Nat, "if he would
give you what you deserve."

Ben evidently relented by this time for his harsh saying about the
matter, and addressing his brother, he said,

"After all, Sam, I think it was rather too bad to kill Trip, for he was
the cleverest dog in town. I don't think you'll gain many friends by the
act."

"I didn't mean to kill him," said Sam.

"But you might have known that it _would_ kill him to kick him down such
a place as that," said Nat.

"That is not so clear, my boy," replied Sam; "it takes a boy bright
enough to count meeting-houses to do that. You see I am green--it is the
bright feller, who can speak pieces, and look at the fields and trees
from Prospect Hill, to foresee