natural affection for its young. Still, when I remember that the lamb was selected before all other animals for sacrifice, and as a type of Him who is called ‘the Lamb of God,’ and who is to take away the sins of the world, I feel a deep interest in its welfare.

“The sheep, too, is one of the most useful animals, its fleece or wool being used as a covering to man, and its flesh for food. It was only yesterday I read the well-established fact that, from one pound of sheep’s wool a thread was spun so fine that it reached to the almost incredible distance of ninety-five miles, while one of ordinary fineness reached twenty-six miles. This covering grows so thick in winter that it enables them to bear cold which would be fatal to other animals. They appear to know, too, when a storm is approaching, and take refuge under a sheltering hill or some projecting cliff.

“One very curious thing is, that they can live under the snow for a long time. Mr. Sullivan, who is a shepherd, you know, told me a circumstance which occurred in his own experience.

“There was every appearance of a storm, and he, with his men, drove the sheep early into the fold. In the morning, on counting them, he found there were seven valuable ewes missing. It had snowed all night, and was still snowing, when he started out in search of them. But nowhere could they be found. The storm continued four days, and the snow had reached a depth very uncommon; but day after day the search was renewed. At last, however, it was given up; when one day a woodcutter, in going over a stone wall which lay almost entirely concealed, fell through the snow, and found himself in the midst of the lost sheep. Their breath had rendered the crust, which was firm enough to bear his weight in other places, so thin here that it would not sustain him. They seemed lively and well, having found enough dead grass under the snow to sustain life.

“There is an instance very similar to this in one of my books, which I will find and read to you.”

“In the winter of 1800, a sheep was buried in the snow near Kendal, and remained there thirty-three days and nights, without the possibility of moving, and yet survived.

“In the same winter, a sheep near Caldbeck, in Cumberland, was buried thirty-eight days; when found, it had eaten the wool completely off both its shoulders, and was reduced to a skeleton; but with great care it recovered.”

“Mr. James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, gives a most interesting account of eight hundred ewes that were buried in the snow. Some of them he and his fellow-servants succeeded in getting out the first day; but the second there were but few of them to be seen, except the horns of some stragglers. The men went about, boring with long poles, but with little success, until their dog found out their difficulty, and flying to a spot, began to scrape away the snow. From this time, by his keen scent, he marked faster than they could get them out, and by his skill saved two hundred, though some were buried in a mountain of snow fifty feet deep. They were all alive, and most of them recovered their strength.”

CHAPTER III.
THE SHEEP AND THE SCAVENGER.

“Why, Minnie,” said Mrs. Lee, one morning a few weeks later, “here is a story very much like that of our pony and lamb. If Poll will stop chattering, I will read it to you.”

“In December, 1825, Thomas Rae, a blacksmith in Hardhills, purchased a beautiful lamb, of the black-faced breed, from an individual passing with a large flock. It was so extremely wild that it was with great difficulty separated from its companions. He put it in a field in company with a cow and a little white pony. It never seemed to mind the cow, but soon manifested fondness for the pony, who showed the friendship to be reciprocated.

“They soon became so attached that they were constantly to be seen in company, whether the pony was used for the saddle or its small carriage, exciting a smile from those who witnessed the unusual spectacle. When the lamb was approached, she would run under the pony for protection, when she would gaze around with looks of conscious security. At night, the lamb always repaired to the stable, and reposed under the manger, where it felt the pony’s breath.

“When separate, which only happened as it was effected by force, the little creature would raise the most plaintive bleatings, and the pony a responsive neighing.

“On one occasion, they both strayed into an adjoining field, in which was a flock of sheep. The lamb joined the flock at a short distance from the pony; but as their owner removed him, it immediately followed, without the least regard to its own species.

“Another time, when passing through a large flock, it followed its favorite without showing any signs of a desire to remain with its natural companions.”

“Somebody must have known about Nannie, and put it in a book,” cried Minnie, greatly excited. “I wonder who it was.”

“I presume there are many such cases,” answered the lady, smiling; “but you will be pleased to know that Mr. Sullivan will probably be here this evening; and you can ask him as many questions as you wish.”

The little girl clapped her hands, and then ran out to the kitchen, to tell Anne the good news.

When her father returned, she looked anxiously into the carriage, to see whether he had any one with him, and was pleased to find that a dark-complexioned, black-whiskered man occupied the other seat.

“I have prepared Mr. Sullivan for a regular catechising,” exclaimed Mr. Lee, springing from the carriage, and kissing Minnie’s glowing cheek. “You may show him Nannie, too; and he will tell you how to manage her.”

They were soon seated in the parlor, when Mr. Lee said,—

“I have often thought of that beautiful passage in which our Saviour describes the Jewish shepherd: ‘The sheep hear his voice, and he calleth his own sheep by name, and leadeth them out; and he goeth before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice.’”

“It is astonishing,” remarked the visitor, “what power a humane shepherd has over his flock, when he has once acquired their confidence. This method of giving names to the sheep, as well as to the leaders, is very important. They soon learn the name given them, and will readily come at the familiar call.

“I read lately an account given by a gentleman who had been travelling in Greece, and he asked if it was customary there to give sheep names. ‘Yes,’ was the answer; and soon after he had an opportunity of seeing for himself. Passing a flock, he asked the shepherd to call one. He did so; and it instantly left its pasture and its companions, and ran up to the shepherd with signs of pleasure, and with a prompt obedience which I had never seen excelled in any other animal.

“I have heard, too,