CHAPTER III.
MARY—MORE GENEROUS THAN JUST.
Harriet and I, walking over one pleasant afternoon to my brother's, met Jessie sauntering slowly home, and Mary with her. We stopped to chat a while with them, and then Mary, bidding Jessie good-by, turned back with us. While I walked steadily on, she and Harriet were sometimes by my side, sometimes running before me, and sometimes lingering far behind. As we approached the house, we saw the sheep driven to their pen for the night. The children were before me, but near enough for me to hear Mary exclaim, "Harriet, there is my lamb—that is the one I mean to choose—if it does not grow too large before the time."
"Maybe you will not have to choose at all," said Harriet, "for Jessie may get it."
"Indeed she will not," said Mary.
"How do you know that?" asked Harriet, "only one month is gone. I wish she may get it."
"I do not think that is very kind of you," said Mary, "to wish that Jessie should get it instead of me, when you know I want the lamb so much."
"Why, Mary," said Harriet, "though you may not get it just at this particular time, you know your father would give you one afterwards if you asked for it, and poor Jessie may never have another chance to get one. Besides, I think it will do her a great deal more good than you."
"I do not see how," said Mary, still in a dissatisfied tone.