One pleasant morning in June, Mr. Lee ordered the carriage, and drove with Minnie to a delightful residence on the border of a lovely lake. Minnie had often been here to visit little Harry, only child of her mother’s friends.

This dear boy, like Minnie, had many pets, and could fully sympathize with her in her love for animals and for the beauties of nature.

Harry had a pony named Cherokee; he had also pretty birds, that he delighted to watch, as they hung in their cage.

But the pet which Harry loved more than all others was a lamb, which he had named Hatty. This little creature had been given him but a short time before Minnie’s visit; but it had learned to know his voice, to run to meet him, and to eat grass from his hand.

When Hatty was first carried from her mother to Harry’s home, she cried for her usual companions. The boy’s tender heart was touched, and he begged his father to let the lamb sleep in his room.

“She will be so lonely!” he urged; “and I shall want to take care of her. Please, papa, be so kind as to let me have her there.”

His parents, ever anxious to please their dear child, readily consented; but first his mamma allowed him to take his pet into the lake for a bath.

Nurse, laughing at his delight, dressed Harry in his red flannel bathing suit; and then, with his lamb in his arms, he waded into the water.

Hatty was a little afraid; but even in those few hours that she had been with her young master, she had learned that he would not allow her to be injured.

When the lamb’s soft wool was dry, as it soon was in the hot sun, his father left his reading in the parlor to help him find a basket large enough for the lamb’s bed.

In the morning, when his mother went into his chamber, she laughed to see that he had taken his pet to share his own bed, and was lying with his arms around her neck, kissing her with demonstrative affection.

“Pretty little Hatty!” he exclaimed, again and again; “I do love you so dearly!”

Minnie had scarcely alighted from the carriage, when Harry cried out, “Please come and see my lamb.”

The child smilingly followed him to the field, where the little creature was learning to graze in the rich clover. As soon as she heard his voice, she ran toward him, bleating and showing every mark of strong affection. She was a pretty lamb, with long, silky wool, gentle eyes, and a meek, loving expression.

During the day, the two children were scarcely a moment away from Hatty; for Harry’s heart was moved by her cries for him, and he was so fond of her he could not endure a separation. Sometimes they would sit down on the clean, sweet grass, the boy laying his head on Hatty’s neck; but more commonly they were running over the lawn, with the lamb close at their heels, sharing their happiness.

“O, mamma,” he exclaimed, when they went in to dinner, “we have had such a funny time! Hatty knows Minnie now quite well; but she does not love her, of course, as she does me. She cries for me whenever she cannot see me.”

His mother smiled, and then asked, “Have you told Minnie about Una, and what Hatty does while you are learning your lessons?”

“O, no, mamma! I quite forgot to tell her.”

“Will you please tell me about Una?” urged Minnie, with great earnestness.

“Yes, dear. Una was the name of a lamb I once saw. She was not gentle and loving, as Harry’s lamb is; she was more lively, and full of tricks. She had a bad habit of browsing the trees, so that her mistress one day told a servant to tie her to a stake in the orchard, or she would destroy the young plants.

“Una had a little companion that was very quiet and inoffensive, but was sometimes led by her into mischief. The next morning after she had been tied, when the man went with the leather strap and string to lead her to the orchard again, Una was nowhere to be found. All day long she and her companion were off out of sight; but at night they came timidly back, watching to see that the man did not catch them.”

Minnie laughed heartily. “I suppose,” she exclaimed, “that she ran away to escape being tied, as our Leo used to when he wanted to go to church.”

“Yes; and she repeated the trick for several days. She was a very cunning lamb, and would watch her chance, standing on her hind feet, to eat the bark from the young trees, and pull the slender twigs down toward the ground with her fore leg.”

“Can you remember any thing more about her?” timidly inquired Minnie.

“Dinner is ready,” answered the lady, smiling. “We shall not have time now; but Harry may tell you about Hatty.”

Harry stood up very straight, his bright eyes sparkling with pleasure; then, with a motion peculiar to him, tossing the curls from his forehead, and turning to Minnie, he said, in an animated tone, “Every morning I have my lessons with mamma; but Hatty doesn’t like me to study, because she wants to be playing, you know. At first, she cried so much that I couldn’t get on at all well, until mamma put my stool close to the door. You see it is glass, and she could look through the panes. So she lies on the piazza outside, with her nose as close as she can get it to me.”

“And her loving eyes fixed on his face,” added mamma, smiling at Minnie’s earnest gaze.

“Isn’t it funny,” cried the boy, leaning toward his young visitor, “for her to sit still till my lessons are learned, so that I can say them all by heart?

“O, mamma!” he shouted, “there’s Hatty now.”

And, true enough, the affectionate creature had followed them around the house to the dining room, and there she stood butting against the glass, to get to her dear little master.

“I do think,” cried Minnie, enthusiastically, “that Hatty is the very best lamb I ever saw.”