The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1888-03-24

Ben went slowly into the woodehed,
and slowly, very slowly, took the canvass
bag from the peg, and cut of piece of
the old clothes-line.
81 wish I dared tell her," he NUT
tered; "but she'd half kill me-"
"What keeps your" called Miss Teck-
ct impatiently from the kitchen. "You
needn't say you can't find the bag, for I
saw it hanging there this very mornin'."
81 don't dare tell her." sighed Ben, as
he left the shed and closed the door be-
hind him. "It's no use to even think of
it,
Mouser fought like a fury when Ben
tried to put her in the bag, and Miss
Ticket had to come to his assistance.
Her hands were scratched and bleeding
when at last the cat was secured.
"Take her off now, n don't fool any
time away at the pond. "I'll give ye jest
half an hour" the old lady said, as Ben
went out, carrying his struggling, scratch
ing burden.
Moores pond was in large field adj
joining the small pasture owned by Miss
Ticket, and Ben soon reached it. But In
stead of obeying his aunt's orders to get
the unpleasant business over as quickly
as possible, he put the bag under tree
and sat down beside it.
He was only ten years old, and five of
those years had been spent under the roof
Of Miss Ticket, who was almost his only
relative. She did not mean to be cruel or
unkind, but she had old-fsshioned, rigid
ideas about managing boys, and believed
in the use OF the rod. Poor little Ben
was whipped for every trifing offense,
and had grown very timid. He had
nervous terror of his aunts displeasure,
and now the mere thought Of confessing
that he had broken the pane and spilled
the milk made him shake as if with the
ague.
His ball had struck the pane one after
noon when Miss Ticket had been making
call at neighbours, and he had run off
to the woods and stayed there until sup
per time, when he had returned home in
full expectation of a whipping. But Miss
Ticket had found Mouser in the cellar,
and had blamed her for the broken glass,
much to Ben's relief. He had resolved
to be exceedingly careful in the future;
but, unfortunately, in closing the trap
door of the cellar for the night, he had
stumbled against the table, and over
went the cream pitcher!
Miss Ticket had just gone up stairs to
bed, 80 she did not discover her loss until
the following morning, and then. strange
ly enough, it seemed to Ben, she had
thought Mouser the culprit.
And now Mouser, poor innocent Nous
or was to be drownedl Ben was much at
tached to her, and felt as if it were
murder he was about to commit, and
wondered if, after the dreadful deed was
done, he would ever know another happy
hour.
There was high bank to the pond on
the side on which he sat, and the water
was several feet deep there. A heavy
stone would sink the bag at once, and it
would never come up again. But Ben
didn't even look for the stone.
He tried instead to think of some place
where he could hide the cat, and could
feed her secretly every day; but gave
this idea up when he reflected that this
would involve telling his aunt deliber-
ate falsehood; and of course the cat
would escape from confinement sooner
or later and betray him.
He wished his aunt had asked him
about the broken pane and the cream.
Then he would have the courage to con-
fess, and would not have been in his pres
emit difficulty. But now he felt that con-
fession was not to be thought of for a
moment. His aunt would be doubly
hard upon him for not having confessed
in the beginning.
The cat mewed and scratched, and
rolled over and over in her efforts to re-
gain her liberty, but Ben paid no atten-
ton to her, so earnestly was he trying to
think of some way by which he could
avoid drowning her.
81 can't drown her, that's sure" he
muttered; and then, hearing footsteps,
he looked around and saw his aunt not
five feet distant.
"Jest as expected" she cried in an
angry voice. ST might as well done the
thing myself in the first place. 1 wonder
ye amt ashamed to face me, making me
come all the way down here in this brill
in sun. Here, give me the cat, n look
round for stone; it won't take me long
to drown herr
Ben started to his feet, gszed wildly
around him for moment, and then dung
himself desperately upon the canvas bag
and its miserable prisoner.
"Don't drown herP' he gasped. She
didn't break the glass or spill the cream,
Aunt Tabitha. II Il did it,"
He was conscious of being ierked to
his feet, and of standing before his aunt
a moment while she glared at him. Then
perhaps the sun was too hot for him,
and he was weak from having eaten no
breakfast everything seemed to be 60
ing round and round; his aunt's voice
falIinn him ha nuOhk IN ho och oxooA of