"Hope so;" and Ben gave a shrug, as if it was a very unnecessary question to put to a person who had driven four calico ponies in a gilded chariot. "It mayn't be as lively as riding elephants and playing with bears, but it is respectable, and I guess you'll be happier switching Brindle and Buttercup than being switched yourself," said Mrs. Moss, shaking her head at him with a smile. "I guess I will, ma'am," answered Ben, with sudden meekness, remembering the trials from which he had escaped. Very soon after this, he was sent off for a good night's sleep in the back bedroom, with Sancho to watch over him. But both found it difficult to slumber till the racket overhead subsided, for Bab insisted on playing she was a bear and devouring poor Betty in spite of her wails, till their mother came up and put an end to it by threatening to send Ben and his dog away in the morning if the girls "didn't behave and be as still as mice." [Illustration: BEN AT THE WELL.] This they solemnly promised, and they were soon dreaming of gilded cars and moldy coaches, run-away boys and dinner-pails, dancing dogs and twirling tea-cups. CHAPTER V. BEN GETS A PLACE. When Ben awoke next morning, he looked about him for a moment half bewildered, because there was neither a canvas tent, a barn roof, nor the blue sky above him, but a neat white ceiling, where several flies buzzed sociably together, while from without came, not the tramping of horses, the twitter of swallows, or the chirp of early birds, but the comfortable cackle of hens and the sound of two little voices chanting the multiplication table. Sancho sat at the open window watching the old cat wash her face, and trying to imitate her with his great ruffled paw, so awkwardly that Ben laughed, and Sanch, to hide his confusion at being caught, made one bound from chair to bed and licked his master's face so energetically that the boy dived under the bedclothes to escape from the rough tongue. A rap on the floor from below made both jump up, and in ten minutes a shiny-faced lad and a lively dog went racing down-stairs--one to say, "Good-morning, ma'am," the other to wag his tail faster than ever tail wagged before, for ham frizzled on the stove, and Sancho was fond of it. "Did you rest well?" asked Mrs. Moss, nodding at him, fork in hand. "Guess I did! Never saw such a bed. I'm used to hay and a horse-blanket, and lately nothing but sky for a cover and grass for my feather bed," laughed Ben, grateful for present comforts and making light of past hardships. "Clean, sweet corn-husks aint bad for young bones, even if they haven't got more flesh on them than yours have," answered Mrs. Moss, giving the smooth head a motherly stroke as she went by. "Fat aint allowed in our profession, ma'am. The thinner the better for tight-ropes and tumblin'; likewise bareback-ridin' and spry jugglin'. Muscle's the thing, and there you are."