I will, sir.

Father'll come just as soon as he can, if he isn't sick or lost," murmured Ben, inwardly thanking his stars that he had not done any thing to make him quake before that awful finger, and resolved that he never would.
Here a red-headed Irishman came to the door, and stood eying the boy with small favor while the Squire gave his orders.
"Pat, this lad wants work.

He's to take the cows and go for them.

Give him any light jobs you have, and let me know if he's good for any thing." "Yis, your honor.

Come out o' this, b'y, till I show ye the bastes," responded Pat; and, with a hasty good-by to Mrs.Moss, Ben followed his new leader, sorely tempted to play some naughty trick upon him in return for his ungracious reception.
But in a moment he forgot that Pat existed, for in the yard stood the Duke of Wellington, so named in honor of his Roman nose.