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 glad to hear them, and about the little lambs."
"A great deal can be said upon that," returned the shepherd, cheerfully.
"So strong is their attachment to the place where they have been bred,
that I have heard of their returning to the Highlands of Scotland from a
distance of three hundred miles. When a few sheep accidentally get away
from their acquaintance in the flock, they always return home with
great eagerness and perseverance.
"The most singular instance that I know of is that of a black ewe, that
returned from a farm in the head of Glen Lyon to her home in Tweeddale,
and accomplished the journey in nine days. She was soon missed by her
owner, and a shepherd was despatched in pursuit of her, who followed her
all the way to Crieff, where he turned and gave her up. He got
intelligence of her all the way, and every one told him that she
absolutely persisted in travelling on--she would not be turned,
regarding neither sheep nor shepherd by the way.
"Her poor little lamb was often far behind, and she had constantly to
urge it on by impatient bleating. She unluckily reached Stirling on the
morning of a great annual fair, about the end of May, and judging it
imprudent to venture through the crowd with her lamb, she halted on the
north side of the town the whole day, where she was seen by hundreds,
lying close by the roadside.
"But the next morning, a little before the break of day, when all was
still, she was seen stealing quietly through the town, in apparent
terror of the dogs that were prowling about the street. The last time
she was seen on the road was at a toll bar near St. Ninian's; the man
stopped her, thinking she was a strayed animal, and that some one would
claim her. She tried several times to break through by force, when he
opened the gate for travellers; but he always prevented her, and at
length she turned patiently back. She found some means of eluding him,
however; for she reached home on a Sabbath morning early in June, having
left the farm at Glen Lyon either on Thursday afternoon or Friday
morning, a week and two days before.
"I suppose her former owner thought she had earned a right to remain on
her native farm, for he paid the Highland farmer the price of her, and
she remained with him till she at length died of old age, in her
seventeenth year."
At this moment, company was announced, who remained till evening, so
that poor little Minnie, after waiting a long time for her stories, was
obliged to go to bed without them.
"Never mind, dear," whispered her father, noticing her look of
disappointment; "I have a book with beautiful anecdotes of sheep and
lambs, which I will read to you when I come home to-morrow night."
In the morning, Mr. Sullivan found time to pay Nannie a visit, and
pronounced her in a thriving condition. He recommended Mr. Lee to have
her wool sheared off, as it was so long as to make her uncomfortable
during the heat of summer.
Nannie was now a year old, and was a fine, large lamb, with her speckled
face looking very bright and intelligent, and, as the gentleman said,
did credit to the care of her shepherdess.
Soon after breakfast, Mr. Lee and his visitor went to the library on
business, and Minnie did not see them again until just as they were
getting into the carriage to drive away. She waited with some impatience
for her father to return, and wished she knew what book her father
referred to as having the stories in it, so that she might have it
ready for him.
Her mother, finding that she was restless and discontented, advised her
to apply herself to her letters, which she was beginning to learn.
If the truth must be told, the little girl was not fond of study; but
when her mother reminded her that most children of her age could read
and spell with ease, and that, if she was diligent, she herself would
soon be able to read stories, and not be dependent on any one else, she
thought it would be a good thing to learn. For half an hour, she forgot
her desire for her father's return in finding A's and E's in books to
match letters on her cards.
Evening came at last, and Mr. Lee with it. He looked very smiling, and
told his wife his sister was in the city, and was coming in a few weeks
to visit them. The moment he saw Minnie's expectant face, he told her he
would be ready in five minutes to attend to her, and then invited Mrs.
Lee to accompany them to the library, to hear some stories from the
Shepherd's Calendar, and other books.
In a few moments, Minnie was seated on her father's lap, her whole
countenance beaming with pleased anticipation.