hair, though her face was thin and wasted.

There was not room for much furniture in the small caravan; a tiny stove,
the chimney of which went through the wooden roof, a few pans, a shelf
containing cups and saucers, and two boxes which served as seats,
completely filled it. There was only just room for the old man to stand,
and the fire was so near him that he was in danger of being scorched.

Rosalie had seated herself on one of the boxes close to her mother's bed.

'You must excuse my intruding, ma'am,' said the old man, with a polite bow;
'but I'm so fond of little folks, and I've brought this little girl of
yours a picture, if she will accept it from me.'

A flush of pleasure came into the child's face as he brought out of his
pocket his promised gift. She seized it eagerly, and held it up before her
with evident delight, whilst her mother raised herself on her elbow to look
at it with her.

It was the picture of a shepherd, with a very kind and compassionate face,
who was bearing home in his bosom a lost lamb. The lamb's fleece was torn
in several places, and there were marks of blood on its back, as if it had
been roughly used by some cruel beast in a recent struggle.

But the shepherd seemed to have suffered more than the lamb, for he was
wounded in many places, and his blood was falling in large drops on the
ground. Yet he did not seem to mind it; his face was full of love and full
of joy as he looked at the lamb. He had forgotten his sorrow in his joy
that the lamb was saved.