But Mr. Wright, who knew his neighbors well, could in no way account for the lad's willingness to endure what he knew he must be enduring, and finally his curiosity got the better of him; for, meeting Budd one day as he was returning from the nearest village, he drew up his horses and said:
"Budd, do you know you are the profoundest example of human patience I ever saw?"
"No; is that so?" replied Budd, with a laugh. "What makes you think so?"
"Well," remarked Mr. Wright, leaning on his wagon-seat and looking down into the smiling countenance before him, "I have lived here beside John Benton and his wife ten years, and know them well enough to be sure that an angel direct from Heaven couldn't long stand their abuse; and yet you have actually been there four weeks, and are still as cheerful as a lark on one of these beautiful spring mornings. Will you just explain to me how you manage to stand it?"
While he was speaking a far-away look had come into the lad's eyes, and a shudder shook his robust frame as though he saw something very disagreeable to himself; but he answered, quietly enough:
"Mr. Wright, there are some things in this world harder to bear than either work or abuse, and I prefer even to live with John Benton's family than to go back to the life I have left behind me."
With these words Budd started up his oxen and went on, leaving Mr. Wright to resume his journey more mystified than ever.
On the first day of May Budd asked Mr. Benton for the previous month's pay.
They were at work putting in corn, and the lad's request took his employer so by surprise that his hoe-handle dropped from his grasp.
"Me pay ye now!" he exclaimed. "What are ye thinkin' of?"