"Words are not needed, but they help, sometimes, if they are sincere and sweet. Did you never learn any prayers, Ben?" "Only 'Now I lay me.' Grandma taught me that when I was a little mite of a boy." "I will teach you another, the best that was ever made, because it says all we need ask." "Our folks wasn't very pious; they didn't have time, I s'pose." "I wonder if you know just what it means to be pious?" "Goin' to church, and readin' the Bible, and sayin' prayers and hymns, aint it?" "Those things are a part of it, but, being kind and cheerful, doing one's duty, helping others and loving God, is the best way to show that we are pious in the true sense of the word." "Then you are!" and Ben looked as if her acts had been a better definition than her words. "I try to be, but I very often fail; so every Sunday I make new resolutions, and work hard to keep them through the week. That is a great help, as you will find when you begin to try it." "Do you think, if I said in meetin', 'I wont ever swear any more,' that I wouldn't do it again?" asked Ben, soberly, for that was his besetting sin just now. "I'm afraid we can't get rid of our faults quite so easily; I wish we could; but I do believe that if you keep saying that, and trying to stop, you will cure the habit sooner than you think." "I never did swear very bad, and I didn't mind much till I came here, but Bab and Betty looked so scared when I said 'damn,' and Mrs. Moss scolded me so, I tried to leave off. It's dreadful hard, though, when I get mad. 'Hang it,' don't seem half so good if I want to let off steam." "Thorny used to 'confound!' everything, so I proposed that he should whistle instead, and now he sometimes pipes up so suddenly and shrilly that it makes me jump. How would that do, instead of swearing?" proposed Miss Celia, not the least surprised at the habit of profanity which the boy could hardly help learning among his former associates. Ben laughed, and promised to try it, feeling a mischievous satisfaction at the prospect of out-whistling Master Thorny, as he knew he should for the objectionable words rose to his lips a dozen times a day. The bell was ringing as they drove into town, and by the time Lita was comfortably settled in her shed, people were coming up from all quarters to cluster around the steps of the old meeting-house like bees about a hive. Accustomed to a tent where people kept their hats on, Ben forgot all about his, and was going down the aisle covered when a gentle hand took it off, and Miss Celia whispered, as she gave it to him: "This is a holy place; remember that, and uncover at the door." Much abashed, Ben followed to the pew, where the Squire and his wife soon joined them. "Glad to see him here," said the old gentleman with an approving nod, as he recognized the boy and remembered his loss. "Hope he wont nestle round in meeting-time," whispered Mrs. Allen, composing herself in the corner with much rustling of black silk.