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The Story Of Little Boy Blue
by [?]

Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn.
The sheep ‘s in the meadow, the cow ‘s in the corn;
Where ‘s the little boy that minds the sheep?
He ‘s under the haystack, fast asleep!

There once lived a poor widow who supported herself and her only son by gleaning in the fields the stalks of grain that had been missed by the reapers. Her little cottage was at the foot of a beautiful valley, upon the edge of the river that wound in and out among the green hills; and although poor, she was contented with her lot, for her home was pleasant and her lovely boy was a constant delight to her.

He had big blue eyes, and fair golden curls, and he loved his good mother very dearly, and was never more pleased than when she allowed him to help her with her work.

And so the years passed happily away till the boy was eight years old, but then the widow fell sick, and their little store of money melted gradually away.

“I do n’t know what we shall do for bread,” she said, kissing her boy with tears in her eyes, “for I am not yet strong enough to work, and we have no money left.”

“But I can work,” answered the boy; “and I ‘m sure if I go to the Squire up at the Hall he will give me something to do.”

At first the widow was reluctant to consent to this, since she loved to keep her child at her side, but finally, as nothing else could be done, she decided to let him go to see the Squire.

Being too proud to allow her son to go to the great house in his ragged clothes, she made him a new suit out of a pretty blue dress she had herself worn in happier times, and when it was finished and the boy dressed in it, he looked as pretty as a prince in a fairy tale. For the bright blue jacket set off his curls to good advantage, and the color just matched the blue of his eyes. His trousers were blue, also, and she took the silver buckles from her own shoes and put them on his, that he might appear the finer. And then she brushed his curls and placed his big straw hat upon them and sent him away with a kiss to see the Squire.

It so happened that the great man was walking in his garden with his daughter Madge that morning, and was feeling in an especially happy mood, so that when he suddenly looked up and saw a little boy before him, he said, kindly,

“Well, my child, what can I do for you?”

“If you please, sir,” said the boy, bravely, although he was frightened at meeting the Squire face to face, “I want you to give me some work to do, so that I can earn money.”

“Earn money!” repeated the Squire, “why do you wish to earn money?”

“To buy food for my mother, sir. We are very poor, and since she is no longer able to work for me I wish to work for her.”

“But what can you do?” asked the Squire; “you are too small to work in the fields.”

“I could earn something, sir, could n’t I?”

His tone was so pleading that mistress Madge was unable to resist it, and even the Squire was touched. The young lady came forward and took the boy’s hand in her own, and pressing back his curls, she kissed his fair cheek.

“You shall be our shepherd,” she said, pleasantly, “and keep the sheep out of the meadows and the cows from getting in to the corn. You know, father,” she continued, turning to the Squire, “it was only yesterday you said you must get a boy to tend the sheep, and this little boy can do it nicely.”