Wait and Hope: or, A Plucky Boy's Luck

"Does this car go to Bunker Hill Monument?" he inquired.

"Yes," said the conductor. "It goes within two minutes' walk of it."

"How long does it take to go there?"

"Twenty minutes."

Ben reflected that the train did not start till five o'clock, and that there would be plenty of time for the excursion. He did not know when he would have another chance, and resolved to avail himself of this.

He helped Emma to board the car, and got on himself.

"I like to ride in electric cars, Ben," said Emma.

"So do I, Emma. Do you know what we are going to see?"

"What is it?"

"A great stone monument, five times as high as a house."

"What is a monument?"

Ben explained to her.

"Does anybody live in it?" asked the little girl.

"No, I don't think it would be a very pleasant place to live in."

"What did they build it for, then?"

Ben explained that a great battle had been fought on the hill where the monument stood.

"Do they fight any battles there now, Ben?" asked Emma, in some apprehension.

"Why? Are you afraid of getting killed?"

"Yes."

"There is no danger. It is over a hundred years since there was any fighting there."

Just then the car stopped, and a new passenger got on and sat down just opposite Ben and his young charge. Ben did not take special notice of her, and was surprised to hear a familiar voice.

"I declare, if it ain't the little gal,"

Looking up, he recognized the old lady, his fellow passenger.

"How do you do, ma'am?" he said.

"Putty well. Where be you goin'?"

"Over to Bunker Hill."

"I'm goin' to Charleston, myself. My son is away with his wife, and I'm goin' over to stay with my niece till he comes back. How do you do, little gal?"

"Pretty well," said Emma.

"You don't know me, do you?"

It was an unfortunate question.

"Yes, I do. You're the lady that takes snuff," said Emma.

Some of the passengers tittered, and the old lady turned red in the face.

"Well, I never did!" she exclaimed, in mortification. "You're a bad-behaved little gal."

"She didn't mean to offend you, ma'am," said Ben. "She's very young."

"She's old enough to behave. Children didn't use to sass their elders like they do now. If one of my children was to behave so, I'd shut 'em up in a dark closet for twenty-four hours, with only dry bread to eat."

The old lady shook her head vigorously, and glared at Emma over the top of her spectacles. It was just as well, perhaps, that Emma was absorbed in looking out of the window, and did not listen to what the old lady was saying. Being a high-spirited and free-spoken young woman, she would have been likely to reply, and that would have made matters worse.

The ride was not a long one, for but a narrow bridge separates

Boston proper from the historic town of Charleston.

"You get out here," said the conductor. "Go up that street to the monument."

Ben could see the great stone pillar standing up against the sky in plain sight, and he ascended the hilly street toward it.

"That is the monument, Emma," he said.

"It looks like a big chimney," said Emma; "only chimneys are made of brick."

"It would take a big house to need such a chimney as that," said Ben.

They reached the top of the hill, and stood beside the monument, which looked immensely tall, now that they were close to it.

"This is where Warren fell," said Ben, repeating to himself a piece of information which he had heard.

"Did he fall?" inquired Emma.

"Oh, no; he was killed in the battle here."

"Are you going to ascend the monument?" asked a gentleman who had come up the hill another way.

"I didn't know you could," said Ben.

"There is a spiral staircase inside. Most visitors ascend it. There is a splendid view from the top."