ith the
butter, and she made the bread too thick, and did not press all the
water out of the butter, and she folded up the fleeces the wrong way,
and therefore she did all herself. Hence Martha was left to take the
whole care of Johnny, and to roam about in the woods. When she was
about fifteen her mother died, so that Martha was left her mother's
place in the house, which she filled beyond the expectation of all the
neighbors. Her father died when Johnny was sixteen, and his last
advice to his daughter was, to take care of her brother, to look after
his worldly affairs, and above all to bear his soul in prayer to
heaven, where he hoped to meet the household once more. The share of
her father's property when he died, was eighty pounds. Here Martha
spent her days, frugal, industrious and benevolent. And it is said,
there will not be a. grave in Grasmere churchyard, more decked with
flowers, more visited with respect, regret, and tears, and faithful
trust, than that of Martha Preston when she dies. In the next story
you will be interested in what happened at the Grey Cottage.

* * * * *

THE BOY FOUND IN THE SNOW.

One winter's night when the evening had shut in very early, owing to
the black snow clouds that hung close around the horizon, Martha sat
looking into the fire. Her old sheep dog, Fly, lay at her feet. The
cows were foddered for the night, and the sheep were penned up in the
yard. Fly was a faithful dog, and for some reason, this evening, he
was very restless. Why he pricked up his ears, and went snuffing to
the door, and pacing about the room, was more than Martha could tell.

"Lie down. Fly,--good dog--lie down," she said; but Fly would not mind
her, which was an unusual thing. She was certain something was the
matter, and she felt she must go up to the fell; and with the
foresight common to the Dale's people, who knew what mountain storms
are, she took under her cloak a small vial of gin, which was kept in
case of any accident, and set out with the dog Fly. The snow fell
fast, the wind blew, and the drifts lay thick. She had great
confidence in Fly, that if any thing was the matter he would find it
out. He ran straight up the little steep path which led through the
woods. On she followed, her cloak white with snow, until she came,
into the more open ground, where she lost sight of Fly and for a time
stood bewildered, until he should return and guide her. The birds and