They all looked.
"Is it--Seventoes?" gasped Benjamin, with wild eyes.
"Of course it's Seventoes," growled his grandfather. "I'd like to know
what you've been cutting up so for. Pussy, pussy, pussy."
Benjamin's mother took him over to the sink, and put some water on his
head, and made him drink some. "There's no such thing as a ghost, and
you're acting very silly," said she; "but I don't wonder you are scared,
when you've done such a dreadful thing. It scares me to think of it. It
was 'most as bad as killing somebody. I never thought a boy of mine
would do such a thing. Grandsir good as he is to you, too."
"I--won't ever do so--again," sobbed Benjamin, all trembling. "I'm
sorry; I _am_ sorry."
Benjamin was not whipped, the scourging of his own conscience had been
severe enough, but he sat pale and sober in the kitchen, while grandsir,
with Seventoes on his knees, and his mother talked to him.
"If you ever do anything like this again, Benjamin," said his
grandfather, "I shall be ha'sh with you, ha'sher than I've ever been,
and you must remember it."
"I guess he must," said his mother. "It was a dreadful wicked thing, and
he should be punished now if I didn't think he'd suffered enough from
his own guilty conscience for this time, and would never as long as he
lived do such a terrible thing again."
"I won't--I--won't!" choked Benjamin.
At supper-time, when the new milk was brought in from the barn, Benjamin
filled a saucer with it and carried it to the door for Seventoes.
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