ful collies, might never find their way
home again. Often, too, in the early spring-time, the poor little lambs
go astray, or meet with some accident, such as being caught in the
bushes and being unable to escape. What, then, would become of them but
for their four-footed guardian, who summons aid before it is too late,
and guides the gentle, silly lambkins and their mothers along the right
paths? I think Ted's father and mother did well when they chose for
their boy a collie like Cheviott for his companion.

Across the stream, just at the foot of the garden path which sloped down
from the house, a couple of planks were placed as a bridge. A narrow
bridge, and not a very firm one, it must be confessed, and perhaps
for that very reason--because there was something a little risky and
dangerous about it--Ted, true boy that he was, was particularly fond of
crossing it. He liked to stand on it for a minute or two on the way,
"jigging" up and down to feel the shaking and trembling of the planks,
but that, of course, was only a kind of playing with danger. I don't
think he _would_ have much liked a sudden tumble into the mischievous
little brook's cold waters, very cold it would have felt, though it
looked so browny bright and tempting. And many a bath in the brook Ted
would have had, had Chevie been as much carried away by his spirits as
his little master. For no sooner did the two set off running from the
top of the sloping garden path, than Ted would call out, "A race,
Chevie, a race! Who'll be at the bridge first?" And on he would run as
fast as his sturdy wee legs could carry him, Cheviott bounding beside
him with a great show of also doing _his_ best. But--and wasn't this
clever of Chevie?--just a little way on this side of the bridge he
would--not stop short, for that might have disappointed Ted and made
him feel as if they weren't having a _real_ race, but go gradually
more slowly, as if he felt he had no chance of gaining, so that little
Ted always reached the bridge first, and stood shouting with glee
and triumph. The first time or two that Ted's mother saw this little
performance she had been frightened, for if the dog had gone on at full
speed, or even only at luggage-train speed, beside the boy, he could not
have avoided tumbling him into the brook. But for anything of this kind
Cheviott was far too much of a gentleman, and after watching them once
or twice, Ted's mother felt perfectly satisfied that the little man