nger
was a long time in healing."

"The man was terribly angry," added the shepherd, "and showed so much
spite to the innocent cause of his rage, that I told him he was unfit
for the care of animals; that he degraded himself to a brute when he
revenged on them his own awkwardness. I dismissed him, and took Isaac,
who is worth a dozen such fellows."

The next morning, Minnie arose in season to help Isaac drive the sheep
from the fold to the pasture; and then, having received a promise from
Mrs. Sullivan to save some of the lamb's wool, and knit Minnie a pair of
stockings, she took leave of the farm, exclaiming, as she rode off, "O,
I do love sheep, and I wish we lived on a farm!"

CHAPTER VII.

THE SHEPHERD'S DOG.

A few mornings after this, Minnie went out at an early hour to see her
pets in the stable, when she found the sheep lying on its side, quiet
and still. She did not, as usual, spring forward to eat the corn which
Minnie was sure to have for her, but only raised a feeble, plaintive
cry.

As her father was already gone to the city, Minnie flew to the house,
for Anne to come and tell her what was the matter with poor Nannie.

Anne looked very sober after examining the sheep, and then said, "It
must have a dose of medicine at once."

Poor Minnie was dreadfully excited, and looked really pale, though, like
a brave little girl, she insisted on holding the cup from which nurse
was feeding sick Nannie. Star, too, seemed really anxious, and he was
quite careful to keep his own side of the stall, for fear he should hurt
his favorite.

Through the day, Minnie visited the barn as often as twice in an hour,
and always insisted that Anne should accompany her. Before her father
returned, she had the satisfaction of knowing that Nannie was much
better. She was still very weak, but her eyes looked brighter, and she
chewed her cud, which Anne said was a good sign.

To turn her mind from her trouble, Mr. Lee took his book again, and
said,--

"Minnie, did you ever hear of a sheep that had so fat a tail that it
weighed more than fifty pounds?"

"O, no, sir," answered the child, laughing; "how funny they must look!"

"They are called the fat-tailed sheep," added her father, "and are
natives of Africa."

"Are there as many kinds of sheep as there are of dogs?"

"More, if all the inferior qualities are counted. They are constantly
multiplied, too; and there are many very greatly improved varieties. Now
I s