The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1894-12-15

school. Charles is poor man, ana
Aunt Marcia shows how hard she has
always worked. / have an idea that
Ben is a good son to them, though.
He is without refinement or polish,
without doubt, but if his heart is
right there may be such thing as
teaching him something by example.
He is an observing lad, and l think
we have not poor material to work
on. Perhaps that will be our work
for vacation. We must not expect
to be wholly idle these two months.
Let us do our best, and see if he is
any different when we come to leave"
well, if you are on my side, moth
er, | have good champion, and I'll
take courage, but he is 50 different
from Rob Estes you'll admit that"
Mrs. Webblaughed. Eyes, I'll ad
NIT that" she said.
Mrs. Webb came into the sitting
room that evening, when, according
to agreement, Will had come over,
and the two boys had ensconced
themselves in the two easiest chairs
nearest the lamp. Arthur was sitting
at little distance and attempting to
read the paper he brought with him,
while Ben and Will whispered to-
gether, and now and then broke into
suppressed giggle. On seeing the
door open, Arthur sprang to his feet
and held il open for bis mother. See
ing that Ben did not offer to present
his friend, Arthur found it devolved
on him.
81 am glad to see you," said Mrs.
Webb kindly.
Will did not rise, and looked very
foolish. Mrs. Morris came in mo-
ment later, and Arthur rose, as for
his mother, and waited for her to be
seated. The two boys looked up in
amazement.
"Ben," said Mrs. Morris briskly,
"give your Aunt Mary that chair.
Here, Mary, you take this" as Ben
rose and moved toward the sofa in
the corner, followed by Will. Mrs.
Webb rose and took it, saying, "Thank
you, Ben," and Arthur resumed his
seat and began to talk with his mother
and aunt. He tried bravely to bring
the two boys into the talk, but be-
yond Eyes" and mo" he could elicit
nothing except an occasional smoker.
1t was trying, but for his mothers
sake he kept his temper nicely. When
Uncle Charles, bluff old farmer, ap
peared, he and Arthur established
quite liking for each other.
stop your giggling over there"
he called once, land tell Arthur about
the time we had in Ferris Woods
last week"
II can't tell nothing" said Ben,
finally obliged to speak; "p'raps Will
can"
81 don't know nothing to tell, said
Will hastily.
"Well, I'd be ashamed of myself
them" said Uncle Charles, scornfully,
as he went on to relate an experience
in hunting for squirrel.
AS the days went by, Ben found
his "dude" cousin not such weak
specimen as he and Will had decided
he must be, even if he did wear we'll
brushed clothes, a tennis-shirt, neck
tie, and soft college cap.
He had never seen a prettier rifle
than the one Arthur brought with
him, and he had never seen heater
shot than Arthur the first day they
went into the woods, and Arthur's
bag on their return was the heavier.
His natural acts of politeness were
all so new to the boy who had grown
up with no training whatever, and
had heretofore rather rejoiced in it.
He was in a state of amazement at
the novelty of the whole thing.
One day he found himself not put
ting his hands in his pockets when
Aunt Mary spoke to him. At an
other time he realized that his hat
was coming off as he entered the
house, and to his own great surprise
he stood up-awkwardly enough, to
be sure-with Arthur one evening
when Aunt Mary and his mother
came into the room. Arthur found
him several times in the shed brush
ing away at his boots and his coat.
Will ceased coming as often. He
found Ben was not given to so much
snickering at the "city chap" and it
wasn't any fun now; besides he did
not feel comfortable somehow. Ben
watched Arthur with wonder as he
waited on his mother and Aunt in his
polite, easy, loving way. Then he
began to wonder if, after all, his