Delighted with the complete success of his practical joke, Ben took his way homeward with the sheet under his arm. By the time he reached his father's house it was ten o'clock. The question for Ben to consider now was, how to get in. If his father had not fastened the front door he might steal in, and slip up stairs on tiptoe without being heard. This would be the easiest way of overcoming the difficulty, and Ben, perceiving that the light was still burning in the sitting-room, had some hopes that he would be able to adopt it. But while he was only a couple of rods distant he saw the lamp taken up by his father, who appeared to be moving from the room. “He's going to lock the front door,” thought Ben, in disappointment; “if I had only got along five minutes sooner.” From his post outside he heard the key turn in the lock. The 'Squire little dreamed that the son whom he imagined fast asleep in his room was just outside the door he was locking. “I guess I'll go round to the back part of the house,” thought Ben, “perhaps I can get in the same way I came out.” Accordingly he went round and managed to clamber upon the roof, which was only four feet from the ground. But a brief trial served to convince our young adventurer that it is a good deal easier sliding down a roof than it is climbing up. The shingles being old were slippery, and though the ascent was not steep, Ben found the progress he made was very much like that of a man at the bottom of a well, who is reported as falling back two feet for every three that he ascended. What increased the difficulty of his attempt was that the soles of his shoes were well worn, and slippery as well as the shingles. “I never can get up this way,” Ben concluded, after several fruitless attempts; “I know what I'll do,” he decided, after a moment's perplexity; “I'll pull off my shoes and stockings, and then I guess I can get along better.” Ben accordingly got down from the roof, and pulled off his shoes and stockings. As he wanted to carry these with him, he was at first a little puzzled by this new difficulty. He finally tied the shoes together by the strings and hung them round his neck. He disposed of the stockings by stuffing one in each pocket. “Now,” thought Ben, “I guess I can get along better. I don't know what to do with the plaguy sheet, though.” But necessity is the mother of invention, and Ben found that he could throw the sheet over his shoulders, as a lady does with her shawl. Thus accoutered he recommenced the ascent with considerable confidence.