Wish I did,"-- and poor Ben gave a gulp as if something rose in his throat and choked him.
"Tell us all about it, dear, and may be we can find out where he is," said Mrs.Moss, leaning forward to pat the shiny dark head that was suddenly bent over the dog.
"Yes, ma'am.

I will, thank y'," and with an effort the boy steadied his voice and plunged into the middle of his story.
"Father was always good to me, and I liked bein' with him after granny died.

I lived with her till I was seven; then father took me, and I was trained for rider.

You jest oughter have seen me when I was a little feller all in white tights, and a gold belt, and pink riggin', standing' on father's shoulder, or hangin' on to old General's tail, and him gallopin' full pelt; or father ridin' three horses with me on his head wavin' flags, and every one clapping like fun." "Oh, weren't you scared to pieces ?" asked Betty, quaking at the mere thought.
"Not a bit.

I liked it." "So should I!" cried Bab enthusiastically.
"Then I drove the four ponies in the little chariot, when we paraded," continued Ben, "and I sat on the great ball up top of the grand car drawed by Hannibal and Nero.