memory of his father laid quietly away in the safest corner of his
heart. He would have been a very unboyish boy if he had _not_ been
happy, for the new place was such a pleasant one, he soon felt as if
for the first time he really had a home.

No more grubbing now, but daily tasks which never grew tiresome, they
were so varied and so light. No more cross Pats to try his temper, but
the sweetest mistress that ever was, since praise was oftener on her
lips than blame, and gratitude made willing service a delight.

At first it seemed as if there was going to be trouble between the two
boys, for Thorny was naturally masterful, and illness had left him weak
and nervous, so he was often both domineering and petulant. Ben had
been taught instant obedience to those older than himself, and if
Thorny had been a man Ben would have made no complaint; but it _was_
hard to be "ordered round" by a boy, and an unreasonable one into the
bargain.

A word from Miss Celia blew away the threatening cloud, however, and
for her sake her brother promised to try to be patient; for her sake
Ben declared he never would "get mad" if Mr. Thorny did fidget, and
both very soon forgot all about master and man and lived together like
two friendly lads, taking each other's ups and downs good-naturedly,
and finding mutual pleasure and profit in the new companionship.

The only point on which they never _could_ agree was legs, and many a
hearty laugh did they give Miss Celia by their warm and serious
discussion of this vexed question. Thorny insisted that Ben was
bow-legged; Ben resented the epithet, and declared that the legs of all
good horsemen must have a slight curve, and any one who knew anything