that an English shepherd knows every sheep in his flock. By feeding the lambs from the hand, and other kind treatment, he accustoms them to come at his call, and gradually to understand and follow his directions, when the rest of the flock will immediately follow.

“In France, the shepherd selects certain sheep from the flock, gives them names, and teaches them to come by offering them a piece of bread. When he wishes to lead his flock through a defile, or to make them change the direction in which they are proceeding, he calls one of these selected sheep. Those that are nearest follow immediately, and the others are not very far behind; and so, by degrees, the whole flock is disposed to obey the call of the shepherd.”

“Since you were here last,” rejoined Mr. Lee, “I have been reading Youatt’s admirable treatise on sheep. He has an instance very similar concerning the flock of Messrs. Nowlan, Kilkenny. In 1820, they had six hundred pure Merinos, all under the charge of one man. Not even a dog was permitted; the whole care devolved on the shepherd.

“At the sound of his horn, all the sheep flocked around him if he stopped, and followed him if he moved forward.

“Salt was the means by which this docility was acquired, a small quantity of which he carried about with him, distributing a little as a reward for their obedience to his call.

“The Kilkenny farm is divided by the King’s River, which at times is so rapid and impetuous as not to be fordable by the strongest horse. A plank bridge, eighteen inches wide, and one hundred and ten feet long, with a rail on one side, is thrown across for the convenience of those who may be desirous of crossing the stream.

“When it is necessary to remove the sheep from one side of the river to the other, the shepherd crosses the plank, sounding his horn, and each individual of the flock passes regularly after him in single file. Even in the highest floods, there has never occurred one single casualty.”

“That reminds me,” said Mr. Sullivan, “of the flocks in the Island of Cyrnon, which, on the landing of a stranger, always flee away into the interior of the country; but as soon as the shepherd blows his horn, they scamper around him, and forget every fear.

“But all this time I am quite unmindful of my young friend, who has not yet asked one question.”

“I want to know whether it’s easy to be a shepherdess,” said Minnie, blushing; “because I should like to be one; only I should want the kind of sheep that would own their lambs, and love them.”

Both Mr. Lee and his visitor laughed heartily.

“Sheep have one trait, and a very marked one,” said Mr. Sullivan, “which makes it difficult to keep them in order. That is, their habit of imitation. On my farm, the boundary one side is a stone wall, and it seems almost impossible to keep them from going over it. There is no better feed in my neighbor’s pasture; but for some reason the leader runs over, and then the whole flock follow. They know better, and they seldom attempt it when Moses, the dog, is in sight; for sheep soon learn the exact boundaries of their enclosure: from being driven back so often, they find how far they can roam, and remain in peace.

“So, Miss Minnie, unless you can run very fast, and like to keep on the chase pretty much all day, I think you would find it easier to take care of your pets at home than to be a shepherdess.”

“Will you please tell me a story about sheep?” said the little girl.

“If you like a laughable story, I can tell you one which I was thinking of not a minute since. It illustrates their habit of imitation. It is often exceedingly difficult to drive a flock of sheep through a narrow passage to which they are unaccustomed; but if one of them can be got through, the rest follow without the slightest trouble.

“A butcher’s boy was driving some fat sheep through Liverpool; but they ran down a street where he did not wish them to go. The boy saw a man before him sweeping the street, and called loudly to him,—

“‘Stop them! Turn them about!’

“The man began to run from one side of the street to the other, always opposing himself and his broom to them when they tried to force a passage through; but the sheep became more and more excited, and pressed forward with increasing impetuosity.

“At last, one of them came right up to the man, who was stooping down, as if he were going to jump over him, which so frightened the fellow that, instead of rising, he seized the short broomstick, with one hand on either end, and held it over his head. He remained a few seconds in this position, when the sheep made a spring, and jumped fairly over him, without touching the broom.

“The first had no sooner done this, than another followed, and then another, in quick succession, so that the man, perfectly confounded, seemed to lose all recollection, and remained in the same attitude until the whole flock had jumped over him, not one of them attempting to pass on either side, though the street was quite clear.

“All this took place just after a wet day, so that the man was entirely bespattered with mud and dirt before they had all passed; and it would be impossible to conceive a more ludicrous appearance than the poor fellow made on that occasion.”

CHAPTER IV.
ATTACHMENT TO HOME.

“That’s a real funny story,” exclaimed Minnie, her eyes sparkling with mirth, “only I can’t help pitying that poor man.”

“I can recall another, though a sadder incident,” continued Mr. Sullivan, “illustrating the same quality.”

“In 1808, an accident happened in England to some sheep belonging to Mr. Cooper, of Huilston Hall, who had intrusted them to the care of a boy for that day, in the absence of the shepherd, who was assisting in getting in the harvest.

“About the middle of the day, the sheep broke from their pasture, when the thoughtless boy drove them back in great haste over a narrow and deep ditch. The leading sheep fell in, and the remainder, passing over them, smothered twenty-five sheep and forty lambs, the whole being worth near four hundred dollars.

“In the same book, there is also an account of a flock near Guildford, consisting of more than eight hundred sheep, in one pasture. A dog one day jumped the hedge, and so frightened them that one of them jumped into an adjoining field, which was on a great descent, when the rest of the flock followed each other over the gap of the hedge so fast that one hundred and twenty-three of them were killed.”

“There is one quality or characteristic of the sheep which will interest you, Minnie,” said her father, “and that is their love of home. Perhaps Mr. Sullivan will tell you some stories about that.”

“I should be very