Paul Prescotts Charge | Page 4

in the yard a minute ago. I guess you can
see him from the winder."
So saying she stepped forward, and looking out, all at once gave a shrill
scream, and rushed from the room, leaving her employer in his
bolt-upright attitude gazing after her with as much astonishment as he
was capable of.
The cause of her sudden exit was revealed on looking out of the
window.
Master Benjamin, or Ben, as he was called everywhere except in his
own family, had got possession of the black kitten, and appeared to be
submerging her in the hogshead of rainwater.
"O, you wicked, cruel boy, to drown poor Kitty!" exclaimed the
indignant Hannah, rushing into the yard and endeavoring to snatch her
feline favorite--an attempt which Ben stoutly resisted.
Doubtless the poor kitten would have fared badly between the two, had
not the window opened, and the deliberate voice of his father, called
out in tones which Ben saw fit to heed.
"What?"
"Come into my presence immejiately, and learn to answer me with
more respect."
Ben came in looking half defiant.
His father, whose perpendicularity made him look like a sitting
grenadier, commenced the examination thus:--
"I wish you to inform me what you was a doing of when I spoke to

you."
It will be observed that the Squire's dignified utterances were
sometimes a little at variance with the rule of the best modern
grammarians.
"I was trying to prevent Hannah from taking the kitten," said Ben.
"What was you a doing of before Hannah went out?"
"Playing with Kitty."
"Why were you standing near the hogshead, Benjamin?"
"Why," said Ben, ingenuously, "the hogshead happened to be near
me--that was all."
"Were you not trying to drown the kitten?"
"O, I wouldn't drown her for anything," said Ben with an injured
expression, mentally adding, "short of a three-cent piece."
"Then, to repeat my interrogatory, what was you a doing of with the
kitten in the hogshead?"
"I was teaching her to swim," said Ben, looking out of the corner of his
eye at his father, to see what impression this explanation made upon
him.
"And what advantageous result do you think would be brought about
by teaching of the kitten to swim, Benjamin?" persisted his father.
"Advantageous result!" repeated Ben, demurely, pretending not to
understand.
"Certingly."
"What does that mean?"

"Do you not study your dictionary at school, Benjamin?"
"Yes, but I don't like it much."
"You are very much in error. You will never learn to employ your
tongue with elegance and precision, unless you engage in this
beneficial study."
"I can use my tongue well enough, without studying grammar," said
Ben. He proceeded to illustrate the truth of this assertion by twisting his
tongue about in a comical manner.
"Tongue," exclaimed his father, "is but another name for language I
mean your native language."
"Oh!"
Ben was about to leave the room to avoid further questions of an
embarrassing nature, when his father interrupted his exit by saying--
"Stay, Benjamin, do not withdraw till I have made all the inquiries
which I intend."
The boy unwillingly returned.
"You have not answered my question."
"I've forgotten what it was."
"What good would it do?" asked the Squire, simplifying his speech to
reach Ben's comprehension, "what good would it do to teach the kitten
to swim?"
"O, I thought," said Ben, hesitating, "that some time or other she might
happen to fall into the water, and might not be able to get out unless she
knew how."
"I think," said his father with an unusual display of sagacity, "that she
will be in much greater hazard of drowning while learning to swim

under your direction than by any other chance likely to befall her."
"Shouldn't wonder," was Ben's mental comment, "Pretty cute for you,
dad."
Fortunately, Ben did not express his thoughts aloud. They would have
implied such an utter lack of respect that the Squire would have been
quite overwhelmed by the reflection that his impressive manners had
produced no greater effect on one who had so excellent a chance of
being impressed by them.
"Benjamin," concluded his father, "I have an errand for you to execute.
You may go to Mr. Prescott's and see if he is yet living. I hear that he is
a lying on the brink of the grave."
An expression of sadness stole over the usually merry face of Ben, as
he started on his errand.
"Poor Paul!" he thought, "what will he do when his father dies? He's
such a capital fellow, too. I just wish I had a wagon load of money, I do,
and I'd give him half. That's so!"

II.
PAUL PRESCOTT'S HOME.
We will precede Ben on his visit to the house of Mr. Prescott.
It was an old