CHAPTER VI.
THE SHEEP-FARM.
About this time, Minnie went a short journey with her parents, and wasgreatly delighted when, one afternoon, they drove through a long,winding lane to a farmhouse, where her friend, Mr. Sullivan, wasresiding.
"Will you please let me see the lambs?" she asked the kind old lady, Mr.Sullivan's mother, who kept house for him at this time.
"My little daughter has been scarcely able to contain her joy,"explained Mr. Lee, "since I told her, a few miles back, that we weregoing to visit your son."
The good woman smiled kindly upon the child, and then went to the backdoor, where she took down a long horn, and blew upon it with all hermight.
"Joseph will hear that," she said, laughing, as she saw Minnie's largeeyes fixed so eagerly on her face, "and he will come up presently fromthe field. When he has taken care of your father's horses, you can goback with him if you please."
"And may I take the little lambs in my arms? I love lambs dearly."
"They are rather shy of strangers, dear, but you can try. If the ewesare willing, I am."
Minnie then ran to the door, and soon announced, in a glad voice, thatMr. Sullivan was in sight.
He gave them a cheering welcome, and, after kissing Minnie, told her shemight run all over the farm, just where she pleased.
"There is a calf in the barn," he said, laughing, "and plenty of littlepigs in the sty."
"But I like lambs better than pigs, sir."
"Well, there are some over a hundred of them, and you shall beintroduced to their acquaintance as soon as I have given the horses someoats."
Mrs. Lee was readily induced to join the party, although somewhat tiredwith her long drive. The sheep, of which there were one hundred andfifty, were eating grass on the side of a hill, but, at the shepherd'scall, came running to meet him, bleating for their lambs to follow. Hethrew out some salt, with which his huge pockets were filled; and whileMinnie gazed with sparkling eyes and flushed cheeks upon the unusualscene, asked Mr. Lee what he thought of their appearance.
"I never saw a finer flock," was the eager reply. "They do credit totheir keeping."
A scream of delight from Minnie caused her father to turn quickly, intime to see a beautiful white lamb crowding its little nose through thefence, into the child's hand.
"Here, Minnie," said the shepherd, giving her an ear of corn; "hold thisup, and call, 'Luke,' and you'll soon have the mother to the lamb eatingfrom the cob." He laughed merrily, as he added, "My boy has given themall Bible names; so we have Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. He hesitateda little about Acts, but finally thought he'd better go straightthrough. So here comes Acts, with her twin lambs, as fine a pair asthere is in the flock."
Mr. and Mrs. Lee laughed heartily, and presently Minnie asked, "What isthe name of that great one, with horns?"
"O! That's Jeroboam. He's a cruel fellow, I'm sorry to say. I wouldn'tadvise you to have much to do with such a fellow as he is."
"He looks like a picture in our Bible of a ram going to sacrifice," saidthe child, gravely. "I wish he were good, though."
"Here comes a lamb now," said Mr. Sullivan, "that I took the liberty toname for you. To my fancy, she's the prettiest one of the flock. Minnie,Minnie, come and get your corn."
"Can lambs eat corn, sir?"
"No; but their mothers can, and they get the good of it."
Minnie's mother came and ate the corn greedily from his hand, while thelamb danced about, first on one side and then on the other, much to theamusement of the child.
"Do they stay out in the field all night, sir?"
"O, no! we always shelter them. At this season, we allow them to feedtill late; the sun being so hot in the middle of the day, they allcrowd under the shade of the hill."
"But what do they do when it rains?"
"A warm shower doesn't hurt the lambs; but we had some cold north-eaststorms earlier in the season, when we were obliged to drive them all in,as we couldn't separate the lambs from their mothers. One day, we triedto keep the ewes out to feed, but they bleated so much for their littleones 'twas no use; they wouldn't eat."
"I'm glad of that," cried Minnie, eagerly. "I'm glad your sheep lovetheir children. In Ireland, sometimes they won't own them."
"We had a great deal of trouble with the merinos," Mr. Sullivan went on,directing his remark to Mr. Lee. "Not one in ten cared any thing abouther lamb. If she had milk enough, I could tie her; but it often made myheart ache to hear the poor wee things crying for a mother's care. I wasalmost glad when they died off, as they generally did. I find it's theuniversal opinion now that merinos make poor nurses."
The shepherd turned smilingly to Minnie: "Have you any more questions toask, Miss?"
"O, a great many! But as we are going to stay all night, I shall havetime."
"Then, my dear, I will go in," said her mother, laughing. "I think youhave catechised Mr. Sullivan quite enough for the present."
The next hour was spent by the child in wandering all over the farm. Incompany with her father and the good-humored shepherd, she examined theneat continuous racks all around the sheep-house, which, in winter,were filled with hay or husks for their food. Long troughs wereunderneath, into which, as night approached, she was much amused to seethe boy, Isaac, pour the scalded meal.
In the centre of the house was a large, shallow box or trough, filledwith clear water from a neighboring hill. This, Mr. Sullivan assuredthem, had not frozen during the winter.
Minnie stood for a long time watching the pearly drops as they trickledslowly through the pipe, wondering why the water never rose any higherin the trough. At length her father showed her a little pipe whichcarried off the waste water into the ground.
They were sitting at the supper table, and Minnie was giving a glowingaccount of her discoveries, when they were startled by a loud shouting:"Stop, Israel! Go along, Moses! Ssh! hi! there, Obadiah! Here, Jonah,Amos, Nebuchadnezzar, Moses! what are you about?"
"What is the stupid fellow bringing up the sheep at this time for?"queried Mr. Sullivan, glancing at the clock; and then, seeing the lookof merriment on the faces of his visitors, he burst into a hearty laugh.
"I believe you'll have to excuse me," he said, rising hastily. "Isaacwill never be able to get them into the fold alone."
"I want to go, too," whispered Minnie.
She was rather frightened at first at the loud bleating of the ewes, andthe responsive cries of the lambs; but keeping close to the shepherd,had the satisfaction of feeling that she was of great assistance indriving them into the enclosure.
The moment they began to enter the sheep-house, the boy, Isaac,commenced a loud, shrill whistle, which the sheep seemed to understand,and which her friend informed her directed them to the troughs for theirsupper.
"I didn't mean to shelter them for an hour yet," exclaimed the lad, whenhis master blamed him for driving them to the fold so early; "butJeroboam butted down a rail in the fence, and before I knew it, thecrazy creatures were all out in the garden."
"We must kill that fellow if he does much more mischief," Mr. Sullivansaid; and taking Minnie's hand, they returned to the house.
"It speaks well for Isaac's knowledge of Scripture," remarked Mr. Lee,archly, "that he has chosen the names so appropriately."
"O! He goes to mother for that," was the ready answer; "but it doessurprise me to see how he recognizes every one. I believe he is as wellacquainted with the name and character of every sheep and lamb as apastor is with his congregation. I often hear him talking to one forbeing selfish, or praising another for her meekness. I am well enoughacquainted with Jeroboam to know that he is as obstinate andself-willed as his illustrious namesake."
"Isaac says little Abner is a thief," exclaimed Minnie, laughing.
"So he is, and steals his supper from the ewes whenever he can get it,at the expense of many a poor lamb."
"I saw Minnie again, mother, and I knew her in a minute."
"You'd make a capital shepher
dess," added Mr. Sullivan; "you'd governthem all by love."
"That is the way you do," remarked his mother.
"Well, there is no other way. Sometimes they are rather provoking; but Ialways feel ashamed of myself when I lose my temper with a brute. Thereis nothing like kindness to conquer even the most obstinate animal. Lastwinter, I had a man to help me. He was giving one of the ewes a dose ofmedicine, and she struggled so hard to get away that she threw over thecup three successive times. I found he could do nothing with her, and soI myself undertook the job. The poor creature was by that time sofrightened, that when I forced the spoon between her teeth, she bit myfinger to the bone. I said nothing of the pain until I had accomplishedmy object--"
"And then you came near fainting," interrupted his mother. "The fingerwas a long time in healing."
"The man was terribly angry," added the shepherd, "and showed so muchspite to the innocent cause of his rage, that I told him he was unfitfor the care of animals; that he degraded himself to a brute when herevenged on them his own awkwardness. I dismissed him, and took Isaac,who is worth a dozen such fellows."
The next morning, Minnie arose in season to help Isaac drive the sheepfrom the fold to the pasture; and then, having received a promise fromMrs. Sullivan to save some of the lamb's wool, and knit Minnie a pair ofstockings, she took leave of the farm, exclaiming, as she rode off, "O,I do love sheep, and I wish we lived on a farm!"