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The flock of sheep marched until the noontide, when a halt was ordered. After that they went onward over hill and river, with rest at night and at noon, until the town of Roxbury was reached. At this place the sheep were left to be taken to Boston, when opportunity could be had.

With Mary’s lamb in his arms, Johnny Manning accompanied the messenger who went up Boston Neck to carry a letter to the “Selectmen of the Town.” That letter has been preserved and is carefully kept among the treasured documents of the Massachusetts Historical Society. It is too long to be given here, but, after begging Boston to suffer and be strong, remembering what had been done for the country by its founders, it closes in these words: “We know you suffer, and feel for you. As a testimony of our commiseration of your misfortunes, we have procured a small flock of sheep, which at this season are not so good as we could wish, but are the best we had. This small present, gentlemen, we beg you would accept and apply to the relief of those honest, industrious poor, who are most oppressed by the late oppressive acts.”

Then, after a promise of future help in case of need, the letter is signed by Samuel Grey, Ebenezer Devotion, and seven other names, ending with that of Hezekiah Manning.

A British officer, seeing the lamb in Johnny’s arms, offered to buy it, bribing him with a bit of gold; but Johnny said “there wasn’t any gold in the land that he would exchange it for,” and so the lamb reached Boston in safety before the sheep got there. As Johnny walked along the streets he was busy looking out for some poor little girl to give it to, according to Mary’s request.

“I must wait,” he thought, “until I find some one who is almost starved.”

On the Common side he met a little girl who cried “Oh! see! see! A lamb! A live lamb in Boston Town!”

The child’s eyes rested on the little white creature, which accosted her with a plaintive bleat. Johnny Manning’s eyes were riveted on the little girl. What he thought, he never said. “Do you want it?” he asked.

“O yes! yes! Where did you get it?”

“I’ve brought it from Roxbury in my arms. Mary Robbins gave it, in Windham, for some poor little girl who was hungry in Boston. Are you hungry?”

“No,” said the child, hesitatingly.

“Are you poor?”

“My father is”–a sudden thought stopped the words she was about to speak. “Give me the lamb,” she said, “and I’ll feed three hungry little girls every day as long as Boston is shut up. I will! I will! and Mary’s lamb shall live until I’m a hungry little girl myself, and I will keep it until I am starved clear almost to death.”

Johnny put Mary’s little lamb on the walk. “See if it will follow you,” he said.

“Come lamb! lamb! come with Catharine,” and it went bleating after her along the Common side.

“It’s used to a girl,” ejaculated the boy, “and it hasn’t been a bit happy with me. Give it grass and milk,” he called after Catharine, who turned and bowed her head.

“A pretty story I shall have to tell Mary Robbins,” thought Johnny. “Here I have given her lamb to be kept and coddled, and it’s likely never eaten at all–but I know that little girl will keep her word. She looks it–and she said she would feed three little girls as long as Boston is shut up, and that is more than the lamb could do. I must recollect the very words, to tell Mary.”

When the Boston Gazette of July 4th, 1774, reached the village of Windham, its inhabitants were surprised at the following announcement, more particularly as not one of them knew where the last sheep came from:

“Last week, were driven to the neighboring town of Roxbury two hundred and fifty-eight sheep, a generous contribution of our sympathizing brethren of the town of Windham, in the colony of Connecticut; to be distributed for the employment or relief of those who may be sufferers by means of the act of Parliament, called the Boston Port Bill.”

Johnny Manning, when he returned to Windham, privately explained the matter to Mary Robbins, by telling her that when the sheep were numbered at Roxbury he counted in her lamb.