ditch, and are mounting guard over it, standing at bay.--'Ah,
wretches, I have you now! for shame, Saladin! Get away, Brindle!
See how good May is. Off with you, brutes! For shame! For shame!'
and brandishing a handkerchief, which could hardly be an efficient
instrument of correction, I succeeded in driving away the two
puppies, who after all meant nothing more than play, although it was
somewhat rough, and rather too much in the style of the old fable of
the boys and the frogs. May is gone after them, perhaps to scold
them: for she has been as grave as a judge during the whole
proceeding, keeping ostentatiously close to me, and taking no part
whatever in the mischief.

The poor little pretty lamb! here it lies on the bank quite
motionless, frightened I believe to death, for certainly those
villains never touched it. It does not stir. Does it breathe? Oh
yes, it does! It is alive, safe enough. Look, it opens its eyes,
and, finding the coast clear and its enemies far away, it springs up
in a moment and gallops to its dam, who has stood bleating the whole
time at a most respectful distance. Who would suspect a lamb of so
much simple cunning? I really thought the pretty thing was dead--
and now how glad the ewe is to recover her curling spotted little
one! How fluttered they look! Well! this adventure has flurried me
too; between fright and running, I warrant you my heart beats as
fast as the lamb's.

Ah! here is the shameless villain Saladin, the cause of the
commotion, thrusting his slender nose into my hand to beg pardon and
make up! 'Oh wickedest of soldans! Most iniquitous pagan! Soul of
a Turk!'--but there is no resisting the good-humoured creature's
penitence. I must pat him. 'There! there! Now we will go to the