s besetting sin
just now.

"I'm afraid we can't get rid of our faults quite so easily; I wish we
could; but I do believe that if you keep saying that, and trying to stop,
you will cure the habit sooner than you think."

"I never did swear very bad, and I didn't mind much till I came here, but
Bab and Betty looked so scared when I said 'damn,' and Mrs. Moss scolded
me so, I tried to leave off. It's dreadful hard, though, when I get mad.
'Hang it,' don't seem half so good if I want to let off steam."

"Thorny used to 'confound!' everything, so I proposed that he should
whistle instead, and now he sometimes pipes up so suddenly and shrilly
that it makes me jump. How would that do, instead of swearing?" proposed
Miss Celia, not the least surprised at the habit of profanity which the
boy could hardly help learning among his former associates.

Ben laughed, and promised to try it, feeling a mischievous satisfaction at
the prospect of out-whistling Master Thorny, as he knew he should for the
objectionable words rose to his lips a dozen times a day.

The bell was ringing as they drove into town, and by the time Lita was
comfortably settled in her shed, people were coming up from all quarters
to cluster around the steps of the old meeting-house like bees about a
hive. Accustomed to a tent where people kept their hats on, Ben forgot all
about his, and was going down the aisle covered when a gentle hand took it
off, and Miss Celia whispered, as she gave it to him:

"This is a holy place; remember that, and uncover at the door."

Much abashed, Ben followed to the pew, where the Squire and his wife soon
joined them.

"Glad to see him here," said the old gentleman with an approving nod, as
he recognized the boy and remembered his loss.

"Hope he wont nestle round in meeting-time," whispered Mrs. Allen,
composing herself in the corner with much rustling of black silk.

"I'll take care that he doesn't disturb you," answered Miss Celia, pushing
a stool under the short legs and drawing a palm-leaf fan within reach.

Ben gave an inward sigh at the prospect before him, for an hour's
captivity to an active lad is hard to bear, and he really did want to
behave well. So he folded his arms and sat like a statue, with nothing
moving but his eyes. They rolled to and fro, up and down, from the high
red pulpit to the worn hymn-books in the rack, recognizing two little
faces under blue-ribboned hats in a distant pew, and finding it impos