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A short story by M. (Arnaud) Berquin

Flora And Her Little Lamb

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Title:     Flora And Her Little Lamb
Author: M. (Arnaud) Berquin [More Titles by Berquin]

A poor countryman's little daughter, whose name was Flora, was one morning sitting by the side of the road, holding on her lap a pan of milk for her breakfast, into which she was breaking some bits of coarse black bread.

While Flora was thus busily employed at her breakfast, a farmer was passing the road with his cart, in which were about twenty lambs, and these he was going to carry to the market for sale. These pretty little lambs were tied together like so many criminals, and lay with their legs fastened with cords, and their heads hanging down. Their plaintive bleatings pierced the heart of poor Flora, but they had no manner of effect on the hardhearted farmer.

As soon as he came opposite the place where little Flora was sitting, he threw down to her a lamb, which he was carrying across his shoulder, saying, "There, my girl, is a poor sorry creature that has just died, and made me some shillings poorer than I was. You may take it if you will, and do what you like with it."

Flora put down her milk and her bread, and taking up the lamb, viewed it with looks of tenderness and compassion. "But why should I pity you?" said she to the lamb. "Either this day or to-morrow they would have run a great knife through your throat, whereas now you have nothing to fear."

While she was thus speaking, the warmth of her arms somewhat revived the lamb, who, opening its eyes a little, made a slight motion, and cried baa, in a very low tone, as if it were calling for its mother. It would be impossible to express little Flora's joy on this occasion. She covered the lamb in her apron, and over that put her stuff petticoat; she then bent her breast down towards her lap, in order to increase the warmth, and blew into its mouth and nostrils with all the force she could. By degrees the poor animal began to stir, and every motion it made conveyed joy to her little heart.

This success encouraged her to proceed; she crumbled some of her bread into her pan, and, taking it up in her fingers, she with no small difficulty forced it between its teeth, which were very firmly closed together. The lamb, whose only disorder was hunger and fatigue, began to feel the effects of this nourishment. It first began to stretch out its limbs, then shake its head, to wag its tail, and at last to prick up its ears. In a little time, it was able to stand upon its legs, and then went of itself to Flora's breakfast pan, who was highly delighted to see it take such pleasing liberties; for she cared not a farthing about losing her own breakfast, since it saved the life of the little lamb. In short, in a little time, it recovered its usual strength, and began to skip and play about its kind deliverer.

It may naturally be supposed, that Flora was greatly pleased at this unexpected success. She took it up in her arms, and ran with it to the cottage to shew it her mother. Her Baba, for so Flora called it, became the first object of her cares, and it constantly shared with her in the little allowance of bread and milk, which she received for her meals. Indeed, so fond was she of it, that she would not have exchanged it for a whole flock. Nor was Baba insensible of the fondness of her little mistress, since she would follow her wherever she went, would come and eat out of her hand, skip, and frisk round her, and would bleat most piteously whenever Flora was obliged to leave her at home.

Baba, however, repaid the services of her little mistress in a more substantial manner than that of merely dancing about her, for she brought forth young lambs: those lambs grew up, and brought forth others; so that, within the space of a few years, Flora had a very capital stock, that furnished the whole family with food and raiment. Such, my little readers, are the rewards which Providence bestows on acts of goodness, tenderness, and humanity.


[The end]
M. (Arnaud) Berquin's short story: Flora And Her Little Lamb

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