family, than his great delight used to be to catch hold of the poor thing by the two horns, directly they began to grow, one in each hand, and keep pushing the animal backwards and forwards until really he made the beast as savage as a tiger, and taught it to butt so, that upon my word it would run at you with its head down, for all the world like one of those stupid Cornish wrestlers. As for that fat coward of a Duffy, positively he was so afraid of what in his stupid country dialect he called the “wicked mutton,” that I couldn’t for the life of me get the fellow to go near the poor thing; and if Wittals hadn’t been there, it must have stopped out every night, and may be died of rheumatism from sleeping out on the damp grass, instead of in a comfortable warm knife-house. So matters went on, until Kitty’s little pet got to be a great waddling monster of a sheep, and only grew more and more savage from being always tied up to our apple tree, and fatter and fatter from want of exercise, while all the time mutton kept getting higher and higher, from I don’t know what, until at last it seemed to me a shameful sin to go wasting good wholesome turnips, at three bunches for fippence, on such a creature, when one of its legs would eat so beautifully, boiled, with some of _those very_ turnips. Well! like a thrifty housewife as I am, I had half made up my mind to have one of the great hulking pet’s haunches, with red currant jelly, for dinner the next Sunday, while it was nice and young and tender, when dear mother luckily called in to see me, and I thought I would consult with her on the subject. On going to the window, to show her what prime condition the darling was in, I declare, if the brute hadn’t got away from the apple tree, and wasn’t right in my flower-bed, making a hearty meal off the few double stocks and sweet-williams I had in my garden, and which I prided myself so much upon, and the Simmonds’s were so jealous of. I gave a slight scream, and rang the bell for that dare-devil of a Wittals, knowing that it was no good looking for any assistance from that chicken-hearted stupid of a Duffy. But, of course, Wittals, as is always the case when he’s wanted, had slipped out after some more of that sticky sweet-stuff, which I’m continually obliged to be taking away from him, and eating myself, to prevent him from spoiling his livery. So, as I couldn’t stand still and see my beautiful sweet-williams eaten up before my very eyes, I ran down the garden steps, and catching hold of the end of the rope, tried to drag the woolly cannibal back to the apple tree. But no sooner did I tug the wretch away from the flowers, than off it set scampering round and round me, until, I declare, it wound the cord all about my poor legs, for all the world as if I had been a peg-top and it meant to send me spinning--which sure enough, whether he meant it or not, it did. For, directly it got my feet bound fast together with the rope, so that I