“Me want to go to the pretty lamb,” said Reuben, hanging heavily on his brother:—­“Me go to the lamb—­me don’t like horses.”

“But you shall see the great big Newfoundland, Reuben, that you admired so much yesterday,” said his brother.  “Should you not like to see the large black dog?”

“Reuben wants to go to lamb,” replied the child, and he resolutely stood still.  “Pretty lamb, Reuben, go to lamb now.”

“You can’t go to the lamb, Reuben,” said his brother impatiently, “so you must be content to go with me to see the large black dog.  I am not going to give up my cap to any one, I promise you; so come on now, and don’t keep me staying here all day.”

But Reuben, as nurse had said, was a weary little fellow when bent upon any thing, and now he was bent upon going to play with the lamb, so he was determined not to move, or if he did it should only be in the direction of the lawn.  Marten was, however, almost as determined to go the other way, on account of Jane Roscoe, and for a moment there seemed a doubt which boy should carry the day.  The elder had the most strength, and he was inclined to use it, for Miss Roscoe had offended him, and lifting the child from the ground he was about to run off with him in the direction of the stables, when Reuben, not accustomed to opposition of this description, set up a loud cry of passion, which at once drew the attention of all near to himself and his brother.

“There,” exclaimed Jane, “what are you teasing the little one so for? why not let him have his own way and come amongst us, if he will?”

“Well, go,” said Marten angrily, “go, Reuben, if you like; but I tell you I will not come with you.”

But this was not what Reuben desired, and he stood at a little distance from his brother looking, I am sorry to say, very naughty and selfish, for he was really wishing Marten to give up his own desires to attend to and humour his; and so now he stood moving neither one way nor another, his face turned towards the lamb so finely bedecked with flowers.  His cry, however, had aroused the young girls from their occupation, and Mary Roscoe, whom one would have supposed had been really kissing the lamb, so close was her face to it, when Marten had first seen her; sprang from her knees, and running across the lawn to the gravel path, now stooped down to Reuben, and looking him kindly in the face—­“Little boy,” she said, “what did you cry for? what did you want? tell me, little boy, and I will see what I can do.  I am a fairy, little boy.  We are all fairies on that turf, and I will take you with me to fairy land and shew you some fairy wonders.”

Reuben at once and without hesitation put his hand in hers, saying—­“Me go see pretty lamb me go with you—­me will go.”

“Then come along,” said Mary, and turning her head over her shoulder towards Marten, she added, “I will take care of him; so you may go to Edward and William if you like, and I dare say you will like it better than playing with girls.”