ng and jogging away.

Four sleek cows filed out of the barn-yard when Pat opened the gate, and
Ben drove them down the road to a distant pasture where the early grass
awaited their eager cropping. By the school they went, and the boy
looked pityingly at the black, brown and yellow heads bobbing past the
windows as a class went up to recite, for it seemed a hard thing to the
liberty-loving lad to be shut up there so many hours on a morning like
that.

But a little breeze that was playing truant round the steps did Ben a
service without knowing it, for a sudden puff blew a torn leaf to his
feet, and seeing a picture he took it up. It evidently had fallen from
some ill-used history, for the picture showed some queer ships at
anchor, some oddly dressed men just landing, and a crowd of Indians
dancing about on the shore. Ben spelt out all he could about these
interesting personages, but could not discover what it meant, because
ink evidently had deluged the page, to the new reader's great
disappointment.

"I'll ask the girls; may be they will know," said Ben to himself as,
after looking vainly for more stray leaves, he trudged on, enjoying the
bobolink's song, the warm sunshine, and a comfortable sense of
friendliness and safety, which soon set him to whistling as gayly as any
blackbird in the meadow.

CHAPTER VI.

A CIRCULATING LIBRARY.

After supper that night, Bab and Betty sat in the old porch playing with
Josephus and Belinda, and discussing the events of the day, for the
appearance of the strange boy and his dog had been a most exciting
occurrence in their quiet lives. They had seen nothing of him since
morning, as he took his meals at the Squire's, and was at work with Pat
in a distant field when the children passed. Sancho had stuck closely to
his master, evidently rather bewildered by the new order of things, and
bound to see that no harm happened to Ben.

"I wish they'd come. It's sun-down, and I heard the cows mooing, so I
know they have gone home," said Betty, impatiently; for she regarded the
new comer in the light of an entertaining book, and wished to read on as
fast as possible.

"I'm going to learn the signs he makes when he wants Sancho to dance;
then we can have fun with him whenever we like. He's the dearest dog I
ever saw" answered Bab, who was fonder of animals than her sister.

"Ma said--Ow, what's that!" cried Betty, with a start as something
bumped against the gate outside, and in