to be subjected. At present the
end justifies the means in its little heart, and it leaves its pleasant
home to wander schoolward, and we are left to imagine its thoughts on
the way.

A scene in the school-house bursts upon us, and

"It makes the children laugh and play
To see a lamb at school."

This is another instance in which we are shown the poet's knowledge of
human nature. At anything less than the sight of a lamb the little
scholars are too well trained to laugh. This has no precedent. They
have been told how to behave should a dog enter the room, or should a
ludicrous error in lessons occur; but when a lamb trots soberly
in,--not gamboling now; conscience already whispers; remorse eats at
the little creature's peace of mind,--it is not to be expected that
order can be longer maintained, and the school, with the exception of
Mary, runs riot. Mary is perhaps, meanwhile, reproaching her pet with a
look "more in sorrow than in anger;" she is too gentle to scold, but
that glance completely fills the lamb's cup of sorrow; it is yet to
overrun, and the drop is soon poured in--the deep beneath "the lowest
deep" is soon reached.

"For this the teacher turned him out."

It was his duty, reader; judge him not harshly.

"But still he lingered near."

This, at least, was not forbidden,--to wait for his little mistress.

"And waited patiently about
Till Mary did appear."

How fraught with significance is that one word, "patiently!" All too
eager before, that was the lamb's fault, "and grievously hath [he]
answered it." He has turned over a new leaf, and wandering aimlessly
about, now nibbling a cowslip, now rolling in the young grass to still
the remorse gnawing at his heart, we can imagine him resolving to be a
better lamb in the future,--to grow more worthy Mary's love.

"'What makes the lamb love Mary so?'
The eager children cry."

All have noticed this devotion--all wonder at it. The teacher answers
in words that prove how well we read Mary's affectionate nature:

"'Why, Mary loves the lamb, you know,'
The teacher did reply."

What could be a more worthy ending to so fine a poem than that the
loves of the two, human and brute, should be recognized by all Mary's
little world, her school-mates and her teacher. More poems like this,
sentiments so pure clad in plain Saxon words, would make our
world--wonderful and beautiful, as it now is--a fitter place