h, Ben."

Ben's heart reproached him as he saw the traces of sorrow upon his
mother's face, and felt that he had been the cause.

"Forgive me, mother!" he said.

"It is all forgotten now. I am so happy!" she answered, her eyes filled
with joyful tears.

They sat down together, and Ben began to tell his story. In the midst of
it his father entered. He stopped short when he saw Ben sitting beside
his mother.

"It is Ben come back," said his mother, joyfully.

Mr. Brandon did not fall on his son's neck and kiss him. That was not
his way. He held out his hand, and said, "Benjamin, I am very glad to
see you."

In the evening they talked together over the new plans which Ben's
return suggested.

"You must stay with us, Ben," said his mother. "I cannot part with you
now."

"I am getting old, Benjamin," said his father. "I need help in my
business. You must stay and help me, and by and by you shall have the
whole charge of it."

"I am afraid I don't know enough," said Ben. "I haven't studied any
since I left home. I don't know as much as I did when I was ten."

"You shall study at home for a year," said his father. "The teacher of
the academy shall give you private lessons. You can learn a great deal
in a year if you set about it."

To this arrangement Ben acceded. He is now studying at home, and his
abilities being excellent, and his ambition excited, is making
remarkable progress. Next year he will assist his father. Mr. Brandon
seems to have changed greatly. He is no longer stern and hard, but
gentle and forbearing, and is evidently proud of Ben, who would run a
chance of being spoiled by over-indulgence, if his hard discipline as a
street boy had not given him a manliness and self-reliance above his
years. He is gradually laying aside the injurious habits which he
acquired in his street life, and I confidently hope for him a worthy and
useful manhood.

From time to time Ben visits New York, and renews his intimacy with his
Cousin Charles, who returns his warm affection. Charles, in turn,
spends the summer at Cedarville, where they are inseparable.

So we bid farewell to Ben, the Luggage Boy, hoping that he may be able
to repay his mother in part for the sorrow which his long absence
occasioned her, and that she may live long to enjoy his society. To my
young readers, who have received my stories of street life with so much
indulgence, I bid a brief farewell, hoping to present them ere long the
sixth volu