o
look after the sheep on the fell, Martha took most of the care of little
Johnny.

It is said that a very active mother does not _always_ make a very
active daughter, and that is because she does things herself, and has
but little patience with the awkward and slow efforts of a learner. Mrs.
Preston said that Martha was too long in going to market with 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