Like
most boys he hated work, unless it was of a sort which just suited him;
then he could toil like a beaver and never tire. His wandering life had
given him no habits of steady industry, and while he was an unusually
capable lad of his age, he dearly loved to loaf about and have a good
deal of variety and excitement in his life.
Now he saw nothing before him but days of patient and very
uninteresting labor. He was heartily sick of weeding; even riding Duke
before the cultivator had lost its charms, and a great pile of wood lay
in the Squire's yard which he knew he would be set to piling up in the
shed. Strawberry-picking would soon follow the asparagus cultivation,
then haying, and so on all the long, bright summer, without any fun,
unless his father came for him.
On the other hand, he was not obliged to stay a minute longer unless he
liked. With a comfortable suit of clothes, a dollar in his pocket, and
a row of dinner-baskets hanging in the school-house entry to supply him
with provisions if he didn't mind stealing them, what was easier than
to run away again? Tramping has its charms in fair weather, and Ben had
lived like a gypsy under canvas for years, so he feared nothing, and
began to look down the leafy road with a restless, wistful expression,
as the temptation grew stronger and stronger every minute.
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