Impressed by this warning, and attracted by Thorny's enthusiasm, Ben cast himself down upon the blanket, and for an hour the two heads bobbed to and fro from microscope to book, the teacher airing his small knowledge, the pupil more and more interested in the new and curious things he saw or heard,--though it must be confessed that Ben infinitely preferred to watch ants and bugs, queer little worms and gauzy-winged flies, rather than "putter" over plants with long names. He did not dare to say so, however, but when Thorny asked him if it wasn't capital fun, he dodged cleverly by proposing to hunt up the flowers for his master to study, offering to learn about the dangerous ones, but pleading want of time to investigate this pleasing science very deeply. As Thorny had talked himself hoarse, he was very ready to dismiss his class of one to fish the milk-bottle out of the brook, and recess was prolonged till next day. But both boys found a new pleasure in the pretty pastime they made of it, for active Ben ranged the woods and fields with a tin box slung over his shoulder, and feeble Thorny had a little room fitted up for his own use where he pressed flowers in newspaper books, dried herbs on the walls, had bottles and cups, pans and platters for his treasures, and made as much litter as he liked. Presently, Ben brought such lively accounts of the green nooks where jacks-in-the-pulpit preached their little sermons, brooks beside which grew blue violets and lovely ferns, rocks round which danced the columbines like rosy elves, or the trees where birds built, squirrels chattered and woodchucks burrowed, that Thorny was seized with a desire to go and see these beauties for himself. So Jack was saddled and went, plodding, scrambling and wandering into all manner of pleasant places, always bringing home a stronger, browner rider than he carried away. This delighted Miss Celia, and she gladly saw them ramble off together, leaving her time to stitch happily at certain dainty bits of sewing, write voluminous letters, or dream over others quite as long, swinging in her hammock under the lilacs. CHAPTER XIII. SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY. "School is done, Now we'll have fun," sung Bab and Betty, slamming down their books as if they never meant to take them up again, when they came home on the last day of June. Tired teacher had dismissed them for eight whole weeks and gone away to rest; the little school-house was shut up, lessons were over, spirits rising fast, and vacation had begun. The quiet town seemed suddenly inundated with children all in such a rampant state that busy mothers wondered how they ever should be able to keep their frisky darlings out of mischief; thrifty fathers planned how they could bribe the idle hands to pick berries or rake hay; and the old folks, while wishing the young folks well, secretly blessed the man who invented schools.