Ben hugged him close and smiled over his curly, white head at the little
girls, who clapped their hands at the pleasing tableau, and then went to
pat and fondle the good creature, assuring him that they entirely
forgave the theft of the cake and the new dinner-pail. Inspired by these
endearments and certain private signals given by Ben, Sancho suddenly
burst away to perform all his best antics with unusual grace and
dexterity.

Bab and Betty danced about the room with rapture, while Mrs. Moss
declared she was almost afraid to have such a wonderfully intelligent
animal in the house. Praises of his dog pleased Ben more than praises of
himself, and when the confusion had subsided he entertained his audience
with a lively account of Sancho's cleverness, fidelity, and the various
adventures in which he had nobly borne his part.

While he talked, Mrs. Moss was making up her mind about him, and when he
came to an end of his dog's perfections, she said, gravely, --

"If I can find something for you to do, would you like to stay here
awhile?"

"Oh, yes, ma'am, I'd be glad to!" answered Ben, eagerly; for the place
seemed home-like already, and the good woman almost as motherly as the
departed Mrs. Smithers.

"Well, I'll step over to the Squire's to-morrow to see what he says.
Shouldn't wonder if he'd take you for a chore-boy, if you are as smart
as you say. He always has one in the summer, and I haven't seen any
round yet. Can you drive cows?"