The dear little girl, with artless joy,
Stood looking down at the sleeping boy,
"I have saved him a whipping, I know,"
she said,—
"H ow the little curls shine on his pretty head!
"He ought to remember my father's sheep,
But he looks so lovely there, fast asleep—
Good-by, little Boy Blue, sleep well,
The sheep are all safe, and I'll never tell! "
Then she kept on her way thro' the fragrant