BRUCE AND OLD SHEEPY.

ANY years ago, I spent a few weeks with some friends who lived upon a large milk-farm in the State of New York. They made a great many pounds of butter every day, and packed it in firkins for market. So much churning could not be done by hand, and, as working by steam was not common then, they were obliged to employ dogs, and sometimes sheep.

In the basement of the farm-house was a huge churn, the handle of which was attached to a large barrel made of slats, in such a way, that, when the barrel revolved, the churn was worked. When the dairy-maid was ready to churn, she would lock Bruce, their great dog, into this barrel, and say to him, "Go on, Bruce." If he went on, at every step he turned the barrel. The faster the barrel turned, the faster the churn-handle moved up and down, and the sooner the butter came.

Bruce did not like this kind of work; and who of us would? He often tried to shirk it by running away; but when John, the farmer's son, perceived this trick, he took care to secure the dog over night. The farmer and his son were very good to their animals: so, in order that Bruce might rest, they selected a sheep to perform a part of the labor. This sheep, though quite young, was never called by any other name than "Old Sheepy."

The dog and the sheep took turns in the churning thus: Bruce worked Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; Old Sheepy worked the other three days of the six. On Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings, Old Sheepy could never be found without much hunting. The other three mornings she would leisurely wander near the house, nibbling the grass near the doorstep.

So John was obliged to drive her into an enclosure, and there confine her for the night, previous to her churning, as it took too much time to find her in the morning.

One Monday evening, Bruce, having done his day's work, was lying on a rug in the sitting-room, where the farmer's children and myself were having a quiet game of "Come, d'ye come?" At eight o'clock, Priscilla and John, as if with one thought, started up from the game with the words, "Has any one shut up Old Sheepy?" No one knew. So off John ran to get the animal, but soon returned, not able to find her.

"No matter," said Priscilla, "Bruce has had an easy time to-day. We'll put him on to-morrow; for we never had more cream ready than now." Bruce pricked up his ears, as if to say, "Catch me churning Old Sheepy's butter!"

When bed-time came, Priscilla said, "I will not let old Bruce out to-night. I will put him in the wash-room." Priscilla didn't quite know Bruce, if she thought he was simple enough to be caught napping after hearing that. He got out, no one knew how; and there was nothing to to be done but to wait patiently till morning.

Bruce had no idea of allowing Old Sheepy to get clear of her task. At midnight a terrible barking and bleating and growling and scampering, was heard some little distance from the house. John went out to see what the noise was about. He found that Bruce had spied Old Sheepy in her hiding-place, had routed her out, and driven her into the enclosure; but, as he could not bar the gate, he stood guard against the opening, and was barking loudly to awaken the household.

As soon as John appeared upon the scene, Bruce returned to his rug as if nothing had happened.

When Old Sheepy was marched into the barrel the next morning, you ought to have seen Bruce strutting about the basement! If Old Sheepy slackened her pace at all, Bruce would growl; if she didn't mind that, he would bark, and would not stop until he had succeeded in calling the dairy-maid to threaten Old Sheepy with the whip.

Priscilla and John thought these little acts of the dog very wise; but I think a sheep that could tell the days of the week, as this one was able to do, and knew enough to run away the night before her turn came, was just as wise as the dog.

The family were loud in their praise of Bruce, however, and, as a reward for his shrewdness, talked of relieving him from further work as soon as they could succeed in training another sheep.

I left the farm-house before this took place: so I cannot say how Bruce bore his laurels. But, if I had had my way, I would have rewarded Old Sheepy too.

AUNT ANNE.