's lamb shall live until I'm a hungry little girl myself, and
I will keep it until I am starved clear almost to death."

Johnny put Mary's little lamb on the walk. "See if it will follow
you," he said.

"Come lamb! lamb! come with Catharine," and it went bleating after her
along the Common side.

"It's used to a girl," ejaculated the boy, "and it hasn't been a bit
happy with me. Give it grass and milk," he called after Catharine, who
turned and bowed her head.

"A pretty story I shall have to tell Mary Robbins," thought Johnny.
"Here I have given her lamb to be kept and coddled, and it's likely
never eaten at all--but I know that little girl will keep her word.
She looks it--and she said she would feed three little girls as long
as Boston is shut up, and that is more than the lamb could do. I must
recollect the very words, to tell Mary."

When the _Boston Gazette_ of July 4th, 1774, reached the village of
Windham, its inhabitants were surprised at the following announcement,
more particularly as not one of them knew where the _last sheep_ came
from:

"Last week, were driven to the neighboring town of Roxbury two
hundred and fifty-eight sheep, a generous contribution of our
sympathizing brethren of the town of Windham, in the colony of
Connecticut; to be distributed for the employment or relief of
those who may be sufferers by means of the act of Parliament,
called the Boston Port Bill."

Johnny Manning, when he returned to Windham, privately explained the
matter to Mary Robbins, by telling her that when the sheep were
numbered at Roxbury he counted in her lamb.

HOW ONE BOY HELPED THE BRITISH TROOPS OUT OF BOSTON IN 1776.

It was Commander-in-chief Washington's birthday, and it was Jeremy
Jagger's birthday.

General Washington was forty-four years old that birthday, a hundred
years ago. Jeremy Jagger was fourteen, and early in the morning of the
22d of February, 1776, the General and the lad were looking upon the
same bit of country, but from different positions. General George
Washington was reviewing his precious little army for the thousandth
time; the lad Jeremy was looking from a hill upon the camp at
Cambridge, and from thence across the River Charles over into Boston,
which city had, for many months, been held by the British soldiers.

At last Jeremy exclaimed: "I say, it's too chestnut-bur bad; it is."

"Did you step on one?" questioned a tall, hard-handed, earnest-faced
man,