Write soon, Ben, and I will answer without delay, Your affectionate friend, PAUL PRESCOTT.
“That's a very good letter,” said Mr. Crosby; “I am glad Paul is doing so well. I should like to see him.”
“So should I,” said Ben; “he was a prime fellow,—twice as good as I am. That's true, what he said about my not liking study. I guess I'll try to do better.”
“You'll make a smart boy if you only try,” said the postmaster, with whom Ben was rather a favorite, in spite of his mischievous propensities.
“Thank you,” said Ben, laughing, “that's what my friend, the mayor of New York, often writes me. But honestly, I know I can do a good deal better than I am doing now. I don't know but I shall turn over a new leaf. I suppose I like fun a little too well. Such jolly sport as I had coming to the office this morning.”
Ben related the story of the traveller who inquired the way to Sparta, much to the amusement of the postmaster, who, in his enjoyment of the joke, forgot to tell Ben that his conduct was hardly justifiable.
“Now,” said Ben, “as soon as I have been home, I must go and see my particular friend, Mrs. Mudge. I'm a great favorite of hers,” he added, with a sly wink.