“I know that well enough without your telling me. Will you tell me whether this is the road to Sparta?”
Ben put his hand to his ear, and seemed to listen attentively. Then he slowly shook his head, and said, “Would you be kind enough to speak a little louder, sir?”
“The boy is deaf, after all,” said the driver to himself. “IS THIS THE ROAD TO SPARTA?”
“Yes, sir, this is Wrenville,” said Ben, politely.
“Plague take it! he don't hear me yet. IS THIS THE ROAD TO SPARTA?”
“Just a little louder, if you please,” said Ben, keeping his hand to his ear, and appearing anxious to hear.
“Deaf as a post!” muttered the driver. “I couldn't scream any louder, if I should try. Go along.”
“Poor man! I hope he hasn't injured his voice,” thought Ben, his eyes dancing with fun. “By gracious!” he continued a moment later, bursting into a laugh, “if he isn't going to ask the way of old Tom Haven. He's as deaf as I pretended to be.”
The driver had reined up again, and inquired the way to Sparta.
“What did you say?” said the old man, putting his hand to his ear. “I'm rather hard of hearing.”