"N-n-no; wa-wa-wa-wait a minute," implored Morris, tugging at a button on his jacket, and fixing a studious, inquiring gaze on the kitchen floor. "Write it," said Will. "I c-c-c-c-can't," said poor Morris gloomily. "Give it up, then," recommended Joe. "No _sir_," said Charlie, putting his feet up in a second chair and making himself comfortable, "I don't give it up, sir; I'm going to know what this bumper of a word is." "Well, how are we ever going to know if Morris can't say it nor spell it nor write it?" demanded Joe. "Mebby he can thing it," said little Cad. "Good for you, Caddy!" said Charlie. "You've hit it; Morris can sing fast enough. Now, Morris, we'll sing, 'I love to go to Sunday-school,' and you sing your word instead of those. Begin, boys! Sing loud, Morris." So the boys all sang softly-- I love, I love, I love, I love, I love to go to Sunday-school-- except Morris, who sang with a triumphant shout I love, I love, I love, I love, In-com-pre-hen-si-bil-i-ty! and the boys gave him three cheers. At that moment grandma purposely left the pantry door open, and there, disclosed to view, was a land of promise; a row of delicious little cakes, with chocolate frosting, smiling on the pantry shelf. The boys instantly crossed over to this inviting land and took possession, while grandma, who was sometimes rather unwise in her loving kindness, looked greatly pleased. "I do wish Benny was here," said she. "Boys," she added, as if a new thought had come to her, "go and tell 'Bijah I want to speak to him." The boys clattered out--a stampede of young colts, it seemed--and soon returned, each doing his part in bringing 'Bijah, for every separate boy had hold of him somewhere, as if at the least laxity on their part there was danger of his escape. 'Bijah grinned broadly and bore it bravely. "'Bijah," said grandma Potter, "I must have Benny here to dinner; I can't have his place vacant. What can have kept him away?" she added, as if to herself. "I hope he hasn't been doing anything he ought not to--he's such a little rogue." "Wal, I d' know's I should be for goin' so fur's to say _that_, Mis' Potter, but Benny _is_ curis, and mebby he _has_ slipped over to Spain or France before comin' round here," said 'Bijah. "O dear!" groaned grandmother, the names of these far-away regions giving her a sense of exposure and danger, "I hope nothing has happened to my Benny. 'Bijah, you must harness up and go over and see what's the matter." "Yes'm," said 'Bijah, turning to obey, and every boy set up a petition that he should go in the long wagon and let them go too. So in the long wagon they went, shouting and whistling and singing along, with their eyes wide open to catch a sight of Benny, if by chance he should be coming, loitering on his way. But not one of them looked in the right direction.