[FOR FATHER'S SAKE,]
OR, RIGHT AND MIGHT.
earth seemed glad, though a poor weakling of a lamb lay on the sunny hillside, among its fellows, panting and sighing, as if it would fain sob out its wee life and be at rest. It had been born late; its mother was dead; none of the other ewes took kindly to it: what could the shepherd do but lay it aside in hopeless despair, and attend to the robust and hardy among his large family?
"With powers of tending, I think he'd pull through," said Jasper, his son—or Jep, as he was called—bending over the lamb in boyish pity, and speaking more to himself than to his companions. These were the squire, his master, and John Sharp, his father—both bathed in the radiance of a fair March day.
"Think you so, my lad? Then give the creature powers of tending, and if it pulls through it shall be yours." So spoke Squire Barlow.
"Do ye mean it, squire?"
"Mean it, yes! Did you ever hear me say what I didn't mean?"
Ah! true; squires were great men in those days, and a very great man was Squire Barlow in the village; his word was law. So Jep gathered up the little outcast, and scudded down to the little cottage he called home, where wee Margaret, his sister, and his gentle-faced mother gave him and his charge a warm welcome; lavished their care and love upon the lamb, until, at last, even the shepherd himself said he would live.