'Lisbeth was awake bright and early next day; she had business to attend to.

Mother told her to be a good girl and take care of Trotty. 'Lisbeth said she would. I suppose she thought she would, but she forgot Trotty very soon, for she saw neighbor Gilham across the hill driving his sheep.

Away she went running and skipping. She could scarcely wait to get to neighbor Gilham; but she was obliged to wait, for the path across the field and up to the hill was quite winding; she was obliged to follow the path.

"Good morning," said 'Lisbeth, at length coming near neighbor Gilham.

"Good morning," said he; "what brought you so far from home?"

"I came on business," said 'Lisbeth; "very important."

"Indeed! where are you going?"

"Nowhere. I'm going to be a sheep-boy. I made up my mind to 't yesterday, only I got in the hogshead."

"And whose sheep are you going to mind?"

"Yours. I want to get money to buy a new dress, because I tumbled in the mud and spoiled my blue speckled, and I want to get rich to go to London."

"Hi! hi! that is it; and you are going to be a sheep-boy?"

"Yes, sir, please go home."

"I cannot have a sheep-boy with skirts, he must have pants; the sheep would not like a sheep-boy with skirts."

'Lisbeth hung down her head; she began pulling some berries which grew among the brambles. She did not say another word to Mr. Gilham; she only ran down the path. Mr. Gilham giggled a little to see her go. Mr. Gilham fell asleep; fell, rather into a doze. It did not seem to him many minutes from the time when he saw her run down the path, till he heard her say: "Please go home, sir."

"Who are you?" said Mr. Gilham, rousing up.

"I'm the sheep-boy 'Lisbeth Lillibun."

"I cannot have a sheep-boy in borrowed trousers," said Mr. Gilham, very decidedly; "it would not do."

"Yes it would! Dickon said I might borrow 'm; yes it would do very much indeed."

Mr. Gilham was so positive that it would not do that 'Lisbeth began to cry.

"Sheep-boys never cry, never," said Mr. Gilham, and 'Lisbeth wiped her eyes as fast as she could.

"Please to go home very fast," said 'Lisbeth, but Mr. Gilham only laughed, which made 'Lisbeth very uncomfortable.

"Please to don't laugh so much," said 'Lisbeth; "more people 'n me tend to business."

"Sheep-boys must keep big dogs away; they would kill the sheep."

"Yes, when I see 'm coming."

"Sheep-boys must drive away men; they would steal the sheep."

"Yes; of course," said 'Lisbeth, trying to look very tall.

"Sheep-boys must keep away lions, and tigers, and bears."

"Did you ever drive away any tigers and lions and bears, Mr. Gilham?" inquired 'Lisbeth, looking straight in his eyes.

"I never did, but my sheep-boy must; that is what I want a sheep-boy for."

"He can't if there are none," said 'Lisbeth, looking very wise.

"But there might be."

"I don't think there might be."

"But if there should be?"

"I'll—run and tell you," said 'Lisbeth.

Neighbor Gilham decided that this would never do, and 'Lisbeth thought him unreasonable enough, but she felt half inclined to stamp her foot at him, and tell him to go home, but he looked so big and idle; he looked too big and idle to get home. She thought it was a pretty business, and so it was. She concluded that she had gone into the hogshead's mouth for nothing, and so she had.

She had much better been picking beans that afternoon, to put in her own mouth, but people who are not contented with doing the right thing in the right place, often fall into worse places than the hogshead's mouth, and get into more business than they care to find.

"Please to tell me what I'm going to do?" inquired 'Lisbeth.

"You are going to run home and mind Trotty," replied neighbor Gilham.

'Lisbeth was indignant enough.

"Dickon can mind Trotty; he's mind'n her now. I'm not a minder."

"I thought you did not look like a minder. Sheep-boys are all minders, every one of them, so run home."

'Lisbeth stood looking at him over her shoulder. She was too indignant for words.

"If you want to grow rich," said neighbor Gilham, a little bit sorry for her—a little bit sorry not to help her in getting into business—"if you want to get rich, go hunt in all the flowers between here and home; maybe you'll find one with a gold heart."

'Lisbeth looked over her shoulder at him again very fiercely, and did not say a word; then she walked down the path. She would not let neighbor Gilham see her hold up the flower cups and look in, or unroll the buds to peep toward the heart; she would not let him see her, but she did it for all that.

When she began she did not know when to stop. She hunted and hunted and looked and looked. She found the sweetest bells among the grass, but she never knew that they were sweet at all, she was only looking in every bell for gold. She found the brightest flower faces looking up at her, but never knew that they were bright. She tossed them away from her. She found neither pence nor pounds. She found the prettiest flower-lips trying to speak to her, as she bent over them, but she heard nothing that they said, she heard not a breath; she scarcely saw that the lips were pretty at all. Had she heard they would have told her to be content with the flower hearts, just as she found them; that they would give her themselves with their bright faces and patient hearts, which were better than hard hearts of gold. They would have told her to be content with growing where she was, and never to think about the world beyond the mile-stone, for contentment is better than gold itself. They would have told her to mind Trotty, and pick beans, and help mother, which was the dearest, best, and happiest work she could ever find; but 'Lisbeth would not hear, she would not hear at all.

She did not know that neighbor Gilham could see her from the hill. She forgot all about Gilham; she forgot all about mother and Trotty; forgot everything which she should have remembered, though she found no gold. Neighbor Gilham should never have sent her hunting for what he knew she could not find, he should not have told her to hunt for gold in the flower-hearts; he should have rather told her to listen to the lesson of the flowers and be content.

But neighbor Gilham did not tell her this, and she did not think of it, and though she came home no richer, she was hustled to bed before twilight and for her supper had neither porridge with nor porridge without the beans.