"MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB."
The well-known verses beginning, "Mary had a little lamb," were founded on actual circumstances, and the heroine, Mary, is still living. About seventy years ago she was a little girl, the daughter of a farmer in Worcester County, Massachusetts, United States.
One spring, the farmer brought a feeble lamb into the house, and Mary adopted it as her especial pet. It became so fond of her that it would follow her everywhere.
One day, it followed her to the village school, and, not knowing what else to do with it, she put it under her desk and covered it with her shawl. There it stayed until Mary was called up to the teacher's desk to say her lesson, and then the lamb walked quietly after her, and the other children burst out laughing, so the teacher had to shut up the little girl's pet in the wood-shed until school was over.
Soon after this, a young student, named John Rollstone, wrote a little rhyme about Mary and her lamb, and presented it to her. The lamb grew to be a sheep, and lived for many years, and when at last it died, Mary grieved so much for it that her mother took some of its wool, which was "as white as snow," and knitted a pair of stockings for her to wear in remembrance of her darling.
Some years after the lamb's death, Mrs. Sarah Hall, a celebrated woman, who wrote many books, composed some verses about Mary's lamb, and added them to those written by John Rollstone, making the complete rhyme as we know it.
Mary took such good care of the stockings made from her lamb's fleece that, when she was a grown-up woman, she was able to give one of them to a bazaar in Boston. As soon as the fact became known that the stocking was made from the fleece of "Mary's little lamb," every one wanted a piece of it; so the stocking was ravelled out, and the yarn cut into short pieces. Each piece was tied to a card on which "Mary" wrote her full name, and these cards sold so well that they brought the large sum of £28 towards the bazaar fund.
Lord, I have tried how this thing and that thing will fit my spirit. I can find nothing to rest on, for nothing here hath any rest itself. O Centre and Source of light and strength—O Fulness of all things—I come to Thee!—Arthur H. Hallam.