The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. VIII, No. 355, October 16, 1886Various
General
The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. VIII, No. 355, October 16, 1886
Various
Children's literature -- Periodicals
And so it was arranged that Mrs. Shelley should go the next day and
consult the rector about their new-found treasure; but she fully made up
her mind to use all the eloquence in her power to persuade Mr. Leslie to
convince John it was plainly their duty to keep the baby which had been
so mysteriously brought to them until its rightful owners claimed it.
The next morning John Shelley was up betimes, as, indeed, he always was;
but it was shearing time, and he was unusually busy, and it was,
moreover, Saturday, and he hoped, with the help of the men who went
round the country shearing in the month of June, to finish his flock
that evening, so taking his breakfast and dinner with him, he told Mrs.
Shelley not to expect him back till the evening. Across the dewy meadows
in the fresh June morning, the loveliest part of the day, went John
Shelley, startling a skylark every now and then from the ground, from
whence it rose carolling forth its matin song, gently at first, but
louder and louder as it sprang higher and higher, until lost to sight,
its glorious song still audible, though John Shelley was too much
occupied with his own thoughts, and, perhaps, too much accustomed to the
singing of the lark, to pay much attention to it. Even his dogs, Rover
and Snap, failed to wake him from his meditation, until he reached the
meadow where he had folded his sheep for the night, and then every
thought, except whether the sheep were all safe, vanished from his mind
as he stood counting them. A few words to the dogs explained his wishes
that the shorn sheep were to be driven out and the unshorn left in the
fold for the present; and then, after a great deal of barking on the
part of the dogs, and shouting from the shepherd, and rushing and
scrambling on the part of the sheep, their bells jingling a not
unmusical accompaniment to the thrushes and blackbirds, which were
pouring out their morning song in the adjoining copse, this manoeuvre
was effected, and John led his shorn flock to the downs, walking in
front with his crook in his hand, while the dogs brought up the rear,
yelping and barking at the heels of any erring sheep that strayed
outside the flock.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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