Free Under the Lilacs by Louisa May Alcott

happy, it is a pity grown people do not oftener remember it and scatter little bits of
     pleasure before the small people, as they throw crumbs to the hungry sparrows. Miss Celia knew the boy was pleased, but he
     had no words in which to express his gratitude for the great contentment she had given him. He could only beam at all he met,
     smile when the floating ends of the gray veil blew against his face, and long in his heart to give the new friend a boyish
     hug, as he used to do his dear ‘Melia when she was very good to him.
    School was just out as they passed; and it was a spectacle, I assure you, to see the boys and girls stare at Ben up aloft
     in such state; also to see the superb indifference with which that young man regarded the vulgar herd who went afoot. He could
     not resist an affable nod to Bab and Betty, for they stood under the maple tree, and the memory of their circulating library
     made him forget his dignity in his gratitude.
    “We will take them next time, but now I want to talk to you,” began Miss Celia, as Lita climbed the hill. “My brother has
     been ill, and I have brought him here to get well. I want to do all sorts of things to amuse him, and I think you can help
     me in many ways. Would you like to work for me instead of the Squire?”
    “I guess I would!” ejaculated Ben, so heartily that no further assurances were needed, and Miss Celia went on, well pleased—
    “You see, poor Thorny is weak and fretful, and does not like to exert himself, though he ought to be out a great deal, and
     kept from thinking of his little troubles. He cannot walk much yet, so I have a wheeled chair to push him in; and the paths
     are so hard, it will be easy to roll him about. That will be one thing you can do. Another is to take care of his pets till
     he is able to do it himself. Then you can tell him your adventures, and talk to him as only a boy can talk to a boy. That
     will amuse him when I want to write or go out; but I never leave him long, and hope he will soon be running about as well
     as the rest of us. How does that sort of work look to you?”
    “First-rate! I’ll take real good care of the little feller, and do everything I know to please him, and so will Sanch; he’s
     fond of children,” answered Ben, heartily, for the new place looked very inviting to him.
    Miss Celia laughed, and rather damped his ardor by her next words.
    “I don’t know what Thorny
would
say to hear you call him ‘little.’ He is fourteen, and appears to get taller and taller every day. He seems like a child
     to
me,
because I am nearly ten years older than he is; but you needn’t be afraid of his long legs and big eyes — he is too feeble
     to do any harm; only you mustn’t mind if he orders you about.”
    “I’m used to that. I don’t mind it if he won’t call me a ‘spalpeen,’ and fire things at me,” said Ben, thinking of his late
     trials with Pat.
    “I can promise that; and I am sure Thorny will like you, for I told him your story, and he is anxious to see ‘the circus boy,’
     as he called you. Squire Allen says I may trust you, and I am glad to do so, for it saves me much trouble to find what I want
     all ready for me. You shall be well fed andclothed, kindly treated and honestly paid, if you like to stay with me.”
    “I
know
I shall like it — till father comes, anyway. Squire wrote to Smithers right off, but hasn’t got any answer yet. I know they
     are on the go now, so maybe we won’t hear for ever so long,” answered Ben, feeling less impatient to be off than before this
     fine proposal was made to him.
    “I daresay; meantime, we will see how we get on together, and perhaps your father will be willing to leave you for the summer
     if he is away. Now show me the baker’s, the candy shop, and the post office,” said Miss Celia, as they rattled down the main
     street of the village.
    Ben made himself useful; and when all the other errands were done, received his reward in the