was half wet, and his teeth were
already chattering. "We must get him off this wet ground as soon as
possible," said Gerald; and together we lifted him, and slowly and
laboriously bore him to the donkey-cart in the road.

By this time Gerald had only strength enough to hold the reins, and we
set out forthwith for the Stevens farm, I, with what help Daisy could
give, trying to bring some show of life back to the stranger. Perhaps
the jolting of the cart helped,--I don't know,--but by and by he began
to revive, and at last we propped him up in one corner of the cart,
with his head supported by Daisy's knee.

I shall not soon forget how long the road seemed, and how I got out
and walked in deep mud, and how, when poor Rough seemed straining
every muscle to make the little cart move at all, Gerald insisted on
getting out, too, and leading Rough; how the sun set as we were wading
through a long road, where willow trees grew thick on either side, and
Daisy said, "See; all the little pussies are out!" how, at last, we
reached the Stevens farm, and restored the half-drowned boy to his
parents. I remember, too, how they were so utterly absorbed, very
naturally, in the welfare of their boy, as to forget all about us, and
offer us no quicker means of return home than our donkey-cart.

They came to call on us the next day, and to thank us, and specially
Gerald, with tears of gratitude. And Gerald was a hero in the village
from that day forth.

I remember well how dark it grew as we waded slowly and silently
home, and how poor little Rough did his very best, and never stopped
once.

I think he understood the importance of the occasion; but those who
were not Rough's friends, believe it was a recollection, and
expectation of supper, that made him acquit himself so honorably.

As we neared our home, we saw a tall figure looming up in the dark,
and soon, by the voice, we knew it was Michael, one of the farm hands,
sent to seek us.

"Bluder an nouns," he exclaimed, "it is you, Mister Gery! An' yer
muther, poor leddy, destroyed wid the fright. An' kapin' the chilt out
to this hair. Hadn't ye moor sense?"

We explained briefly; and Daisy begged to be carried, as the cart was
all wet.

With many Irish expressions of sympathy, Michael took the child in his
arms; and so we arrived at home, and found father and mother half
distracted with anxiety, and the farm hands sent in all directions to
look for us. We were at once, all thre