The boy thought of dull days in the fields, with oxen for companions; then of foot-lights, gay music, and laughter. He rubbed his boots on the grass and muttered, "Much obliged, Mr. Ellery, but I ain't ready for that, nor willing either, in your way of doing it."
"Very well; I have said all I am going to say. I shall never ask you again."
Billy trudged home rather soberly. He opened the cottage door a little later, and at his footfall Ben sprang from the pantry and stood anxiously watching his pockets. Billy knew exactly what it meant. Ben had gone to the cupboard, "And when he got there the cupboard was bare." This had often happened of late. Billy pulled out of one pocket a few slices of bacon, and out of another a tiny paper of tea, saying: "Granny, I have got you some to-night—tea, granny."
"Oh yes. When you were in your cradle, I told my husband you would live to take care of me."
"She thinks you are father," stuttered Ben, as he got out the frying-pan. Soon the whole place was filled with the welcome odor of bacon and tea. Billy cut some bread, and seizing granny's chair, pushed it to the table. He stared at her while she asked her blessing, and idly watched the sunbeams in the rusty lace of her old cap. When she opened her eyes, which were as blue as a baby's, she added, tenderly: "God bless you, dear. You brought us a good supper."
It was seldom that she spoke so coherently, but a bit of a prayer often seemed to clear for a moment her mind, as a precious drop might act in some unsettled mixture.
"What if granny should not have any supper some night when I am gone?" was the thought that rushed into the boy's mind, and into his eyes came tears. His heart was touched by the thought. What preachers and teachers and offers of help had never been able to effect, the trustful gratitude of a feeble little old woman had accomplished. He choked, spluttered, and pretended he had swallowed the tea the wrong way. Then he did like unto sinners the world over—he tried to harden his heart again. He reflected that this was Peter's home and Peter's mother. It was Peter's business to support his own family. It was Billy's business to rise in the world.
After supper he made ready for certain exercises very common in the cabin of late—exercises which he considered likely to improve him in his chosen "profession." He pushed granny's chair back into the chimney-corner, and waited until she dozed before he exclaimed, "Come, Ben!"
BILLY AND BEN REHEARSING.