ever hoped to find their child alive.

"But it _was_ alive, and safe, and well," said Mary, "with these
kind little girls and little Robert."

And when their uncle and aunt came home they were very kind to
the father and mother. They had their cottage built up again and
furnished, and gave them help in putting their garden in order,
and there always continued to be kind feeling between them. As to
the baby, it grew up to be a fine strong boy, and its parents
named it Robert, in memory of the little boy who had helped to
save it from the water.

The Little Milk-maid.

There was once a little Milk-maid, who lived at a farm-house. Her
name was Sally. On the summer mornings she used to be up and
dressed at five o'clock. Then she took her bright milk-pail on
her head, and her three-legged stool in her hand, and called her
little dog Trusty, and tripped over the dewy grass to the stile
that led to the field where the cows fed. The wild thyme gave out
a sweet scent as she walked along; and the green leaves glistened
in the sun, for the dew was still on them; and the lark flew up
high, and his song came pouring down over her head. When she got
to the stile, she saw all the four cows quite at the other side
of the field. One was called Dapple, one Brindle, one Frisky, and
one Maggie. They saw her get over the stile, but never stirred a
step towards her. Dapple looked up for a moment, and then began
eating again; Brindle did not seem to mind her; Maggie was lying
down, and did not move; and Frisky lashed her tail and shook her
head, and went on eating.

"O, this will never do!" said Sally. "Trusty, Trusty! go and
bring me Dapple."

Dapple was brown all over, except a white face and tail. Trusty
ran behind Dapple, and barked two or three times, just to tell
her to move on. And she began to walk slowly and gravely towards
Sally. Then Sally put down her little three-legged stool, and sat
down by Dapple and milked her. When she had done, she gave her a
pat, and said, "Now you may go." Then Dapple began to eat again.

"Now, Trusty," said Sally, "go and bring me Brindle." Brindle was
all white. Trusty ran up to her, and she began to walk on; but
when she had got to the middle of the field, she stopped to eat,
and Trusty was obliged to bark pretty sharply, and tell her it
was shameful of her. Then she went on and was milked.

Sally next sent Trusty to bring Frisky. She was brown and white,
prettily spotted; but she w