was herding his father’s sheep on a Cumberland moor, when he fell and broke his leg. Dusk was coming on, the road was lonely, and home was three miles away. To spend the night on the bare heath was certain death; how to get help he knew not. Suddenly an idea came to him: he tied one of his thick gloves round the dog’s neck and told him to go home. The dog bounded off,
THE FAITHFUL MESSENGER
and was soon heard scratching at the farmhouse door.
At the sight of the glove the farmer at once understood
that some accident had happened, and wrapping himself
in his plaid, called to his men and prepared to set out.
The dog ran first, and after stopping many times to make
sure he was not going too fast for the others, led them to
where the young man was lying, faint with pain and half
