“Yes, it surely must have been frightened enough, for it was certainly in great danger, and the Shepherd knew what a terrible plight it must be in, wandering about tired and hungry, far away from the fold.  For what do you think he did?” Grace continued, looking at Geordie; “he actually left all the other sheep—­the ninety-nine, you know—­in the wilderness, and went away to seek for this poor little silly lost lamb.”

“Did he though!  He must have been a real fine man,” responded Geordie, warmly.  “There’s Gowrie’s shepherd lost a wee lambie among the hills not lang syne, and when Gowrie asked him, when he came home, why he didna look about among the heather for it, he said he couldn’t leave the rest, and that it was a puir sick beastie no’ worth much trouble.  But it was a nice wee thing for a’ that, and it must have died all alone there, with nobody to give it a drop of water,” said Geordie, regretfully, for he had a tender heart for all dumb creatures.  “I must tell Gowrie’s lad about this Shepaerd the very next time he comes round the hill.  But did he find the lambie?” he asked, turning to Grace.

“Yes, he found it.  He looked for it ‘till he found it,’ the story says.  After wandering along a road full of danger and painfulness, and sorrowful sights of the terrible ruin the wild beasts had wrought, he came upon the little strange lamb, just when its heart was beginning to faint and fail.  The story does not say that he punished it for running away and giving him so much trouble, or even that he spoke some chiding words and pushed it along in front of him with his crook, as I have sometimes seen shepherds on the road do when the sheep get footsore and weary and unwilling to go on with the journey.”

“Ay do they.  They get their licks many a time when they don’t deserve them,” chimed in Geordie, in a pathetic tone.

“Well, but instead of any hard words or beatings, what do you think the Shepherd did?  He took the little lamb into his own weary arms, and it lay safe and warm there, while he carried it all the way home to the fold.”

“Did he though?” exclaimed Geordie, in warmest admiration.  “Eh, but the lambie must surely have been right fond of the Shepherd after that.  I’m thinkin’ he would know his voice better than before, and follow him right close and canny.  That’s the kind o’ shepherd all beasts would like, for they know fine when a body cares for them,” Geordie said, with a glowing face, as he looked up at Grace, and the “Third Primer” slipped unheeded on the floor.

Was it a mere chance coincidence that this remark of Geordie’s came at a moment when it made more easy of introduction to Grace that part of the parable story which she was full of eagerness to tell to her first scholars?  She desired that it might prove to them not merely a pleasant tale, which had beguiled an hour that had threatened to be a very weary one, to little Jean, at least; but that, through its homely dress, they might catch a glimpse of its higher meaning, and be able to trace the footsteps of the Great Shepherd of souls.