“Goin’ that way, take it right along.”

“What for?” questioned the prudent youth, distrusting such unusual neighborliness.

“She’s tired, wants a ride; I’ll leave it all right, true as I live and breathe,” explained Ben, half ashamed yet anxious to get his little responsibility home as soon as possible, for mishaps seemed to thicken.

“Ho, you couldn’t cart her all that way! she’s most as heavy as a bag of meal,” jeered the taller lad, amused at the proposition.

“I’m stronger than most fellers of my size.  Try, if I aint,” and Ben squared off in such scientific style that Joslyn responded with sudden amiability: 

“All right, let’s see you do it.”

Bab huddled into her new equipage without the least fear, and Ben trundled her off at a good pace, while the boy retired to the shelter of the barn to watch their progress, glad to be rid of an irksome errand.

At first, all went well, for the way was down hill, and the wheel squeaked briskly round and round; Bab smiled gratefully upon her bearer, and Ben “went in on his muscle with a will,” as he expressed it.  But presently the road grew sandy, began to ascend, and the load seemed to grow heavier with every step.

“I’ll get out now.  It’s real nice, but I guess I am too heavy,” said Bab, as the face before her got redder and redder, and the breath began to come in puffs.

“Sit still.  He said I couldn’t.  I’m not going to give in with him looking on,” panted Ben, and pushed gallantly up the rise, over the grassy lawn to the side gate of the Batchelors’ door-yard, with his head down, teeth set, and every muscle of his slender body braced to the task.

“Did ever ye see the like of that now?  Ah, ha!

’The streets were so wide, and the lanes were so narry, He brought his wife home on a little wheelbarry,’”

sung a voice with an accent which made Ben drop his load and push back his hat, to see Pat’s red head looking over the fence.

To have his enemy behold him then and there was the last bitter drop in poor Ben’s cup of humiliation.  A shrill approving whistle from the hill was some comfort, however, and gave him spirit to help Bab out with composure, though his hands were blistered and he had hardly breath enough to issue the command: 

“Go along home, and don’t mind him.”

“Nice childer, ye are, runnin’ off this way, settin’ the women disthracted, and me wastin’ me time comin’ after ye when I’d be milkin’ airly so I’d get a bit of pleasure the day,” grumbled Pat, coming up to untie the Duke, whose Roman nose Ben had already recognized, as well as the roomy chaise standing before the door.

“Did Billy tell you about us?” asked Bab, gladly following toward this welcome refuge.

“Faith he did, and the Squire sint me to fetch ye home quiet and aisy.  When ye found me, I’d jist stopped here to borry a light for me pipe.  Up wid ye, b’y, and not be wastin’ me time stramashin’ afther a spalpeen that I’d like to lay me whip over,” said Pat, gruffly, as Ben came along, having left the barrow in the shed.