The Open Gate
by
MOTTO FOR THE MOTHER
Early teach your child, through play, to guard
that which is dear to him from the danger of loss.
FROEBEL.
One bright summer afternoon, Fleet, the good old shepherd dog that helped to take care of the farmyard, decided that he would step into the barn to see his friend Mrs. Muffet and her two little kittens, for he had not been able to chat with them for some time.
On his way, Fleet looked around to see that all was right. The weather was warm and the hens were taking a dust bath under the apple tree, and the brindle calf was asleep in the shadow of the barn. The ducks and geese were at the pond, the horses were at work in a distant field, the cows and sheep were in pasture, and only the brown colt kicked up his heels in the farmyard; so Fleet barked with satisfaction, and walked into the barn.
Inside he found Mrs. Muffet washing her face, while her two little kittens slept in the hay; and she gave Fleet a warm welcome.
“Good evening, Mrs. Muffet,” said he.
“Good evening, Friend Fleet,” answered she.
“How are the children?” asked the good dog, “and do they grow?”
“Grow?” said Mrs. Muffet. “You never saw anything like them! and such tricks as they play! Tittleback is the merrier, and will play with his own tail when he can find nothing else; but Toddlekins can climb in a way that is astonishing. Why, he even talks of going to the top of the barn, and no doubt he will, some day.”
“No doubt, no doubt,” said Fleet. “Children are so remarkable now.”
“But what is the news with you, Friend Fleet?” inquired Mrs. Muffet.
“Nothing at all,” said Fleet. “The barnyard is as quiet”–but just as he spoke there arose such a clatter outside the door that he sprang to his feet to see what was the matter, and the two kittens waked up in alarm. Outside, the yard was in a commotion. Everybody was talking at the same time. The hens were cackling, the roosters crowing, the ducks quacking, the calf crying, and the sound of flying hoofs could be heard far down the road.
“Pray, what is the matter?” said Fleet to three geese, that were hurrying along, with their necks stretched out.
“The gate is open, the brown colt’s gone, the brindle calf’s going and we are thinking about it; quawk! quawk!” said the three geese, Mrs. Waddle, Mrs. Gabble, and Mrs. Dabble.
“Where are you going?” asked Mrs. Muffet, putting her head out of the barn door.
“Out into the world,” said the three geese together.
“You’d better go back to your pond,” barked Fleet, as he bounded off to help the cook, who was waving her apron to keep back the brindle calf, while the milkmaid shut the gate, and little Dick ran down the road after the brown colt.
The brown colt kicked up his heels, and did not care how fast Dick ran. He had all the world to roam in, and the green grass was growing everywhere; so he tossed his head and galloped away toward the blue hills.
After a while he looked to see whether Dick was still following him, but nobody was in sight; so he lay down and rolled over among the daisies; and this was such fun that he tried it again, and again, until he was tired.
Then he nibbled the grass awhile, but soon decided to take another run; and he raised such a dust, as he scampered along, that the birds peeped down from the trees to see what it was, and a little rabbit that ran across the road was so astonished that it did not take breath again till it reached its greenwood home.
“Hurrah!” said the brown colt, not because he knew what it meant but because he had heard Dick say it. “Hurrah! maybe I’ll never go back!”