Miss Hale, glancing 'round the tidy pantry as she sat down.
"Havin' eat up the food and washed up the dishes, it naturally follows that you don't see, Ma'am. But if I go off in a fit by and by, you'll know what it's owin' to," answered Ben, vainly endeavoring to look like a man suffering from overeating.
"Such kind fibs are not set down against one, Ben, so I will eat your dinner; for if I know you, you will throw it out the window to prove that you can't eat it."
"Thankee, Ma'am, I'm afraid I should," said Ben, looking very much relieved as he polished his last pewter fork and hung his towels up to dry.
A pretty general siesta followed the excitement of dinner, but by three o'clock the public mind was ready for amusement, and the arrival of Sam's box provided it. He was asleep when it was brought in and quietly deposited at his bed's foot, ready to surprise him on awaking. The advent of a box was a great event, for the fortunate receiver seldom failed to "stand treat," and next best to getting things from one's own home was the getting them from some other boy's home. This was an unusually large box, and all felt impatient to have it opened, though Sam's exceeding crustiness prevented the indulgence of great expectations. Presently he roused, and the first thing his eye fell upon was the box with his own name sprawling over it in big black letters. As if it were merely the continuance of his dream, he stared stupidly at it for a moment, then rubbed his eyes and sat up, exclaiming:
"Hullo! That's mine!"
"Ah! Who said it wouldn't come? Who hadn't the faith of a grasshopper? And who don't half deserve it for being a Barker by nature as by name?" cried Ben, emphasizing each question with a bang on the box as he waited, hammer in hand, for the arrival of the ward master, whose duty it was to oversee the opening of such matters, lest contraband articles should do mischief to the owner or his neighbors.
"Ain't it a jolly big one? Knock it open, and don't wait for anybody or anything!" cried Sam, tumbling off his bed and beating impatiently on the lid with his one hand.
In came the ward master, off came the cover, and out came a motley collection of apples, socks, doughnuts, paper, pickles, photographs, pocket-handkerchiefs, gingerbread, letters, jelly, newspapers, tobacco, and cologne. "All right; glad it's come. Don't kill yourself," said the ward master as he took a hasty survey and walked off again. Drawing the box nearer the bed, Ben delicately followed, and Sam was left to brood over his treasures in peace.
At first all the others, following Ben's example, made elaborate pretences of going to sleep, being absorbed in books, or being utterly uninterested in the outer world. But very soon curiosity got the better of politeness, and one by one they all turned 'round and stared. They might have done so from the first, for Sam was perfectly unconscious of everything but his own affairs, and, having read the letters, looked at the pictures, unfolded the bundles, turned everything inside out and upside down, tasted all the eatables, and made a spectacle of himself with jelly, he paused to get his breath and find his way out of the confusion he had created. Presently he called out:
"Miss Hale, will you come and right up my duds for me?" adding, as her woman's hands began to bring matters straight, "I don't know what to do with 'em all. Some won't keep long, and it will take pretty steady eating to get through 'em in time, supposin' appetite holds out."
"How do the others manage with their things?"
"You know they give 'em away, but I'll be hanged if I do, because they are always callin' names and pokin' fun at me. Guess they won't get anything out of me now."
The old, morose look came back as he spoke, for it had disappeared while reading the home letters, touching the home gifts. Still busily folding and arranging, Miss Hale quietly observed:
"We all know how much you have suffered, and all respect you for the courage with which you have borne your long confinement and your loss but don't you think you have given the boys some cause for making fun of you, as you say? You used to be a favorite and can be again, if you will only put off these crusty ways, which will grow upon you faster than you think. Better lose both arms than cheerfulness and self-control, Sam."
Pausing to see how her little lecture was received, she saw that Sam's better self was waking up and added yet another word, hoping to help a mental ailment as she had done with so many physical ones. Looking up at him with her kind eyes, she said, in a lowered voice:
"This day, on which the most perfect life began, is a good day for all of us to set about making ourselves readier to follow that divine example. Troubles are helpers if we take them kindly, and the bitterest may sweeten us for all our lives. Believe and try this, Sam, and when you go away from us, let those who love you find that two battles have been fought, two victories won."
Sam made no answer but sat thoughtfully picking at the half-eaten cookie in his hand. Presently he stole a glance about the room, and, as if all helps were waiting for him, his eye met Joe's. From his solitary corner by the fire and the bed, he would seldom leave again until he went to his grave. The boy smiled back at him so heartily, so happily, that something gushed warm across Sam's heart as he looked down upon the faces of mother, sister, sweetheart, scattered 'round him, and remembered how poor his comrade was in all such tender ties, and yet how rich in that beautiful contentment, which, "having nothing, yet hath all." The man had no words in which to express this feeling, but it came to him and did him good, as he proved in his own way. "Miss Hale," he said, a little awkwardly, "I wish you'd pick out what you think each would like and give 'em to the boys."
He got a smile in answer that drove him to his cookie as a refuge. His lips trembled, and he felt half proud, half ashamed to have earned such bright approval.
"Let Ben help you. He knows better than I. But you must give them all yourself; it will so surprise and please the boys. And then tomorrow we will write a capital letter home telling what a jubilee we made over their fine box."
At this proposal Sam half repented; but as Ben came lumbering up at Miss Hale's summons, he laid hold of his new resolution as if it was a sort of shower bath to which he held the string, one pull of which would finish the baptism. Dividing his most cherished possession, which (alas for romance!) was the tobacco, he bundled the larger half into a paper, whispering to Miss Hale:
"Ben ain't exactly what you'd call a ministering angel to look at, but he is amazin' near one in his ways, so I'm goin' to begin with him."
Up came the "ministering angel," in red flannel and cowhide boots; and Sam tucked the little parcel into his pocket, saying, as he began to rummage violently in the box:
"Now jest hold your tongue and lend a hand here about these things."
Ben was so taken aback by this proceeding that he stared blankly till a look from Miss Hale enlightened him. Taking his cue, he played his part as well as could be expected on so short a notice. Clapping Sam on the shoulder—not the bad one as Ben was always thoughtful of those things—he exclaimed heartily:
"I always said you'd come 'round when this poor arm of yours got a good start; and here you are jollier 'n ever. Lend a hand! So will I, a pair of 'em. What's to do? Pack these traps up again?"
"No; I want you to tell what you'd do with 'em if they were yours. Free, you know, as free as if they really was."
Ben held on to the box a minute as if this second surprise rather took him off his legs; but another look from the prime mover in this resolution steadied him, and he fell to work as if Sam had been in the habit of being "free with his things."
"Well, let's see. I think I'd put the clothes and such into this smaller box that the bottles come in, and stand it under the
