8 -ROBERT DAWSON.

“A cold fain came pattering upon the windows one
morning in October.

“Tt rains, and I will not go to the pasture for any-
body, —not I!” and down I sank upon the bed,
thrusting my head under the warm clothes.

“ Robert!” presently called my father, at the foot of
the stairs. It was his usual summons before. going out
_ to milking. 2

“Tam not awake yet, sir,” said I to myself, getting
farther down, and resolving to sleep again. Who does
not know that sleep, vigorously wooed, is never won?
I was wide awake.

After a time I heard my father’s steps returning from
the barn.

“ Father-has done his part, ought I not to do mine?”

was 4 suggestion that tried to find its way fairly into
my heart, but I answered it with “No: ’tis too bad to
ge two miles in the rain such a morning as this!” |

“ Robert, my ‘son, get up; the cow is ready to go to
' pasture.” No answer. “Robert!” a little louder.

“ Robert !” louder yet. No response.