The Eskdale Herd-boy | Page 8

will give you
most pleasure, Mrs. Little," said Helen; "I dare say my mother will be
satisfied."
She had scarcely finished speaking, when she felt a little hand take hold
of hers. It was the eldest of the shepherd's children, a boy about seven
years old. When he found that she observed him, he pulled her gently
down, to whisper to her, that if she would like to see his hen and
chickens, he would show them to her. "The chickens," he said, "were
only two days old, and were very pretty creatures." Helen replied, that
she should like to see them much. Away skipped Tom, as fast as he
could run, to the end of the cottage, and lifting up an old rug, that lay
over a coop, displayed the young brood and their mother to the
admiring eyes of the visitors. Tom was quite delighted to find the lady
amused with any thing he had to exhibit, and told her, that if he
succeeded in rearing them, he would ask his mammy's leave to come
down himself to the Manse (the name always given to the parsonage
house in Scotland), and bring her a chicken as a present; for they were
all his own; his daddy had given him the hen long ago, and he had
watched and fed her, all the time she was sitting, with part of the
porridge which he got for his own breakfast. Helen asked him how he
could spare any of his porridge, as she supposed that, now his father
was sick, he got nothing else to eat all day. "Oh," said he, "it is but little
she eats; and though, to be sure, I am sometimes very hungry, and
could eat it all myself. I keep thinking how happy I shall be if I can
have some pretty chickens to give my mammy to lay eggs; for, then,

you know she can sell them up at the hall, next August, when the
English gentry come. The English," continued he, looking up at Helen
with a very grave face, "must be very fond of eggs; for do you know
they gave my mammy a whole white shilling for a dozen last year."
Helen thought as Tom did, that the English must indeed be fond of eggs,
if they gave so much money for them. She had never seen her mother
give more than fourpence or fivepence a dozen; and she thought she
would ask, when she got home, whether it could really be as Tom said.
Whilst they were looking at the chickens, the dog, that had been lying
at the door, rose leisurely, shook himself, and walked after them. He
stood close by Helen, wagging his tail and looking pleased; but when
she stooped down to take one of the chickens in her hand, he began to
growl at a terrible rate. "Down, Colly, down!" said Tom; "he won't bit
you, Miss, for he is the best natured creature in the world; he is only
afraid you may hurt the chicken. We always liked Colly very much, but
now more than ever; for it was he, poor fellow, that came and told
mammy that daddy had fallen down." "Stop, Tom," cried Helen, "take
care what you say. How could a dog tell any body what had happened
to your father? Do you know what a naughty thing it is to fib?" "Yes, I
do know very well, Miss, that it is wicked to tell fibs;" answered Tom,
stoutly, "but mammy can assure you, that what I am saying is true."
"Yes, indeed," said his mother, "Tom speaks the truth; though perhaps
he should not have used exactly the word told, for the dog certainly did
not speak, he only barked. If you please, I will tell you what he did; and
then I think you will believe Tom, and love poor Colly too."
"It was in the evening of last Wednesday se'nnight: David was just
come home from the hill, where he had been with his sheep. He was
wet and tired with being out in the rain all day; and I had just got him
some dry clothes, and made up a nice blazing fire, to boil some
potatoes for his supper. The two youngest children had climbed up on
his knee, poor things! Tom and Colly were lying at his feet on the
hearth. We were saying, what a dreadful night it was. The rain and
wind were beating against the cottage, and making it almost shake;
when, between the blasts, I thought I heard the sound of a voice, calling
David. I listened, and very soon there came a violent knocking at the
door. Who can be out at this time of night, and in such weather? said I,