one winter’s day so wild with storm that—Joel was absent—Eva plucked up courage to keep her child at home. She and Paulie prayed, both separately and together, that no harm might come of it, and Paulie’s innocent faith made sure that a miracle would happen and an angel turn cowherd for the day. Alas! he must have been a black one, then; for the cows promptly exhanged their lean pasturage for one of Mr. Dodds’ fat paddocks, and, being discovered by the irate Dodds (riding home belated across the hills, and already exasperated by the storm), were driven off down-hill and put in pound. Joel was furious, of course; and, if he had to pay for it, so had the cows, and more than the cows.
It was only a day or two after, that Paulie, a long way off among the hills on duty, found a valuable beast of Mr. Dodds’ badly tangled up in supplejacks—there was plenty of Bush here then—and her childish sense of justice was delighted. Mr. Dodds had made her father lose his money, kick poor Pickle so badly as to break her leg, thrash Paulie herself, and knock her mother down. Now, Mr. Dodds would lose his beast, for every plunge tied it tighter up; and that would pay him out!
But then, upon the heels of that very “human” thought, came instantly her mother’s constant teaching, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you.” It was a lesson, you see, that got daily practice, and Paulie went fearlessly up to the struggling animal to set it free. But a knife was needed to cut the twists of the vine, and a knife she had not got; while, if she went back all the way home to get one, the chances were that the poor beast would strangle
