A Brave Little Girl
While General Gage held the town of Boston, our people were
nearly starved, because of the number of British
soldiers that must be fed. Accordingly, men were sent
into the surrounding villages to obtain help. "Parson
White," of the little town of Windham, urged his people
to give all they could; and his little daughter,
catching the spirit of loyalty, wondered how she
could help the suffering Bostonians. Soon after, the
villagers prepared to send Frederic Manning to the town
with sheep and cattle and a load of wheat. The little
girl thought of her pet lamb. Could she,
ought she to part with it? Running to her
father, she eagerly asked his advice; but the parson,
smiling kindly, said, "No, dear; it is not necessary
that your little heart be tried by this bitter strife;"
and bade her run away and be happy. But the thought
would not leave her. There in Boston were little
girls, no older that herself, crying for food and
clothing; she must give all she could to help
them. At last the day came on which the cattle and
supplies of help were to be driven to town. Choking
down her sobs, the little martyr untied her pet from
the old appletree, and, crossing the fields, waited for
Manning, the driver at the cross-roads.
"Please, sir," said she, her lip quivering, and the
tears rolling down her cheeks, "I want to do something
for the poor starving people in Boston—I want to
do my part, but I have nothing but this one little
lamb. Please, sir, take it to Boston with you, but,
couldn't you carry it in your arms a part of the
way—'cause it—it—it is so little,
sir?" Then bursting into tears and throwing her apron
over her eyes as if to shut out the sight of her dear
little pet, she ran towards her home. Poor, brave
little girl! I hope when she told her mamma and papa
what she had done, that they took their little girl up
in their arms and kissed her many, many times, and told
her what a dear, brave little girl she had been. I
suspect the tears were in their eyes, too, when she
told them; and I have always wished the good parson had
sent a fleet messenger to overtake the driver and bring
back the little lamb to its loving owner; for I think
it took more real courage to give up that one pet lamb,
than it did for the Boston boys to go before General
Gage when the soldiers had spoiled their fort.
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