The major at once made Soup a sign to stop, and, to make my peace with the fine old fellow, I baited his hook myself. Quivering with joy, as a baby does when it gets hold at last of a plaything some one has taken from it, Old Soupramany hardly paused to thank me by a soft note of joy for baiting his line for him, before he went back to his place, and was again watching his cork as it trembled in the ripples of the river. Four little houses, blue and round, Hidden away from sight and sound. What is in them? The leaves never tell, But they know the secret very well. The daisies know, and the clover knows; So does the pretty, sweet wild rose. Don't be impatient, only wait Just outside, at the leafy gate; Soon a fairy will open the door, And let out birdies--one, two, three, four! UNDER THE LILACS. BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT. CHAPTER XII. GOOD TIMES. Every one was very kind to Ben when his loss was known. The Squire wrote to Mr. Smithers the boy had found friends and would stay where he was. Mrs. Moss consoled him in her way, and the little girls did their very best to "be good to poor Benny." But Miss Celia was his truest comforter and completely won his heart, not only by the friendly words she said and the pleasant things she did, but by the unspoken sympathy which showed itself, just at the right minute, in a look, a touch, a smile, more helpful than any amount of condolence. She called him "my man," and Ben tried to be one, bearing his trouble so bravely that she respected him, although he was only a little boy, because it promised well for the future. Then she was so happy herself, it was impossible for those about her to be sad, and Ben soon grew cheerful again in spite of the very tender memory of his father laid quietly away in the safest corner of his heart. He would have been a very unboyish boy if he had _not_ been happy, for the new place was such a pleasant one, he soon felt as if for the first time he really had a home. No more grubbing now, but daily tasks which never grew tiresome, they were so varied and so light. No more cross Pats to try his temper, but the sweetest mistress that ever was, since praise was oftener on her lips than blame, and gratitude made willing service a delight. At first it seemed as if there was going to be trouble between the two boys, for Thorny was naturally masterful, and illness had left him weak and nervous, so he was often both domineering and petulant. Ben had been taught instant obedience to those older than himself, and if Thorny had been a man Ben would have made no complaint; but it _was_ hard to be "ordered round" by a boy, and an unreasonable one into the bargain.