“And you forgot all about your errands,” hazarded the Woman.

“No, ma’am, I didn’t exac’ly forgit, but when I was passin’ the Court House an’ I seen a big crowd inside, I went in, too, ter listen a minute.

“That lawyer Fink, that got up the Kennel Club, an’ has the bully dog team, an’ Daly, the feller with the smile that makes you feel like there’s sunshine in the room, was a-talkin’ agin each other; an’ their fightin’ was so excitin’ an’ so smooth an’ perlite too, that everybody was a-settin’ on the edges o’ their chairs a-waitin’ fer what was a-comin’ next.”

“So you were interested in what the lawyers had to say?”

“Yes, sir.  Ever since my mother told me the story about President Lincoln a while ago, I been wantin’ t’ be a lawyer when I grow up.  He didn’t have no more book-learnin’ than me at first, but he wouldn’t let nothin’ stop him, an’ jest see what he done.”

“Lincoln is to be your model, then?  Well, you’re right to aim high, Ben.  You can practice his simple virtues of being honest and kind and industrious every day, and anywhere.  And the education must be managed someway,” added the Woman thoughtfully.

“After Mother read me that speech o’ Mr. Lincoln’s at Gettysburg, when all the people was jest dumb from their feelin’s bein’ so solemn an’ deep; an’ some o’ his other speeches that was fine, I begun t’ go t’ town whenever there was t’ be any good speakin’, even when I had t’ walk both ways.”

“Shows your determination, as a starter,” replied “Scotty” encouragingly.  “And were you always repaid for your tramp?”

“Most allers, Mr. Allan.  Last Fourth o’ July I heerd Judge Tucker tell in his pleasant voice ‘at sounds like he likes talkin’ t’ you all that Virginia’s done fer our country, an’ I wished I was from Virginia too.  But mebbe some day I’ll make some boy wish he was from Alaska by bein’ fine an’ smart an’ gentle like Judge Tucker.”

“Virginia or Alaska, Ben—­it’s all the same, so long as you’re proud of your state, and give your state a chance to be proud of you.”

“Yes, ma’am; that’s what Mother says.  Then I heerd Tom Gaffney recitin’ Robert Emmett’s last speech, on St. Patrick’s day, at Eagle Hall, an’ I near cried at the end; an’ I don’t cry easy.  It takes somethin’ pretty bad t’ make me cry,” and he looked furtively toward Baldy.

“I’m sure it does, sonny; any one can see that you’re game, all right; but that speech always makes me cry too.”

The boy regarded “Scotty” appreciatively.  Here was a typical Alaskan, a sturdy trailsman, touched by the tender, pitiful things of life, just like a little boy that hasn’t had time to become hardened.  Ben felt that they would be friends.

[Illustration:  Scotty and Baldy]

“I like all kinds o’ speakin’, too; not jest the fiery sort that makes you want t’ fight fer your country, an’ mebbe die fer it like Robert Emmett; but the kind that jest makes you want t’ be good ter folks an’ dogs, an’ do the best you kin when things is agin you, an’ you don’t see much ahead—­”