“No,” said Ben, slowly, “I don't know as I should.”
“Then take care not to repeat your conduct of this morning,” said his father. “Stay a moment,” as Ben was about to leave the room hastily. “I desire that you should go to the post-office and inquire for letters.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ben left the room and sauntered out in the direction of the post-office.
A chaise, driven by a stranger, stopped as it came up with him.
The driver looked towards Ben, and inquired, “Boy, is this the way to Sparta?”
Ben, who was walking leisurely along the path, whistling as he went, never turned his head.
“Are you deaf, boy?” said the driver, impatiently. “I want to know if this is the road to Sparta?”
Ben turned round.
“Fine morning, sir,” he said politely.