"Come and show him to Celia," begged Thorny, eager to fight his battles over again.
"Better wash him up first; he's a sight to see, poor thing," suggested Mrs. Moss, as she ran in, suddenly remembering her muffins.
"It will take a lot of washings to get that brown stuff off. See, his pretty pink skin is all stained with it. We'll bleach him out, and his curls will grow, and he'll be as good as ever—all but—"
Ben could not finish, and a general wail went up for the departed tassel that would never wave proudly in the breeze again.
"I'll buy him a new one. Now form the procession and let us go in style," said Thorny, cheerily, as he swung Betty to his shoulder and marched away whistling "Hail! the conquering hero comes," while Ben and his Bow-wow followed arm-in-arm, and Bab brought up the rear, banging on a milk-pan with the egg-beater.
(To be continued.)
[THE YANKEE BOYS THAT DIDN'T NUMBER TEN.]
By W. M. Bicknell.