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THE TALE OF SNOWBALL LAMB
SLUMBER-TOWN TALES
(Trademark Registered)
BY
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
AUTHOR OF
SLEEPY-TIME TALES
(Trademark Registered)
TUCK-ME-IN TALES
(Trademark Registered)
THE TALE OF THE MULEY COW
THE TALE OF OLD DOG SPOT
THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG
THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN
THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT
THE TALE OF PONY TWINKLEHEELS
THE TALE OF MISS KITTY CAT
[Illustration: "You'd Better Git Out of the Way," Said Henrietta Hen.
_The Tale of Snowball Lamb._
_Frontispiece_--(_Page 16_)]
SLUMBER-TOWN TALES
(Trademark Registered)
THE TALE OF
SNOWBALL LAMB
BY
ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY
Author of
"SLEEPY-TIME TALES"
(Trademark Registered)
and
"TUCK-ME-IN TALES"
(Trademark Registered)
ILLUSTRATED BY
HARRY L. SMITH
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Made in the United States of America
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY
GROSSET & DUNLAP
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I BLACK AND WHITE 7
II A RIDE TO TOWN 12
III MRS. HEN TELLS TALES 17
IV SCHOOL BEGINS 22
V THE PROMISED TREAT 29
VI MR. CROW EXPLAINS 33
VII WARNING THE FLOCK 38
VIII SALTING THE SHEEP 43
IX CIRCUS TRICKS 50
X THE TIGER 55
XI CRACKED CORN 60
XII THE ACCIDENT 64
XIII FOLLOW MY LEADER 69
XIV TEASING UNCLE JERRY 74
XV UNCLE JERRY OBJECTS 79
XVI AUNT NANCY'S PLAN 84
XVII A TERRIBLE MIX-UP 88
XVIII THE SWING 92
XIX THE WRONG TARGET 97
XX THE SWIMMING HOLE 102
XXI A DUCKING 107
XXII A GREAT JOKE 112
XXIII A MYSTERY 117
XXIV HALF AND HALF 122
THE TALE OF SNOWBALL LAMB
I
BLACK AND WHITE
"Hurrah!" Johnnie Green shouted. And he dashed out of the woodshed and
ran to the barnyard as fast as he could scamper.
There was a good reason for his high spirits and his haste. His father
had just told him he might have a lamb for a pet.
Farmer Green followed Johnnie at a slower pace. When he reached the
barnyard fence Johnnie was already on the other side of it, trying to
catch a certain black lamb.
Now, Johnnie Green was spry; but this black lamb was sprier. Whenever
Johnnie thought he had the lamb the black rascal always managed to slip
out of his clutches.
"I'll help you," said Farmer Green. And climbing the fence, he soon had
the lively lamb cornered and caught.
Then Johnnie lost no time in taking his new pet in his own arms.
"I'm going to call him----" Johnnie began, as his father let go of the
struggling black armful.
But Johnnie Green never finished what he had started to say. The first
thing he knew the lamb had squirmed out of his arms and was running up
the lane.
Johnnie straightened up and gazed after him in dismay.
"I don't believe I'll call him anything," he murmured, half to himself.
Farmer Green couldn't help laughing. And then, noticing a very
disappointed look on Johnnie's face, he said, "Cheer up, Johnnie! That
lamb is the youngest one on the farm, but he's too big for a pet. He's a
wild one. Let him run with the flock and we'll see if we can't do
something to make you feel happy."
Well, Johnnie Green knew that when his father talked like that it was
silly to be glum. So he cried, "All right!" And turning his back upon
the black lamb, which was by this time almost up to the head of the
lane, Johnnie walked back to the woodshed.
The next day, when Farmer Green came home from a drive over the hill,
Johnnie shouted "Hurrah!" once more. For lying on a bit of hay in the
bottom of the buggy was a white lamb no more than half as big as the
lively black scamp that had got away from Johnnie the day before.
Johnnie Green didn't need to ask whose lamb this was. He knew at once
that it was his own.
"Where'd you get him?" he demanded.
"At your uncle's!" his father explained.
Johnnie lifted the white lamb out of the buggy and set him down gingerly
upon the ground. And the white lamb didn't try to run off. He was only a
tiny thing, with a very soft coat and a very pink nose.
"I wonder if he's hungry," said Johnnie Green. "I'll get some corn and
see if he wants anything."
"You'll have to feed him milk in a bottle," his father told him. "He
isn't weaned yet. Bring him into the woodshed!"
In a little while Johnnie's father had found a baby's bottle, which he
filled with warm milk.
Then all Johnnie had to do was to hold the bottle to his new pet's
mouth. The lamb did the rest.
"I'm going to call him 'Snowball,'" Johnnie announced. And then he began
to laugh.
"Look at his tail!" he shouted. "He'll switch it off if he isn't
careful."
For as Snowball drank the milk he jerked his stubby tail up and down at
a great rate.
Old dog Spot, who was stretched upon the woodshed threshold, gazed at
Snowball with a lofty air.
"That lamb has a queer notion of the way a tail ought to be wagged," he
said deep down in his throat. "He ought to wag it from side to side. But
I suppose he's too young to know better."
II
A RIDE TO TOWN
Much to old dog Spot's disgust Johnnie Green and his new pet lamb soon
became great friends. It wasn't long before Snowball, as Johnnie called
the white lamb, followed his young master about the yard and even into
the farmhouse--when Mrs. Green wasn't looking.
It was a remark that Johnnie made about Snowball one day which caused
old Spot to speak his mind plainly to the Muley Cow. Johnnie Green
actually said, in Spot's hearing, "Snowball knows as much as a dog!"
"I never did have any use for sheep," Spot told the Muley Cow.
"Everybody knows they're all terribly stupid. So you can imagine how I
felt when Johnnie Green spoke like that to his father."
The Muley Cow chewed her cud. She had a far-off look in her eyes, as if
she might be thinking about what Spot was saying--or as if she might
not. Anyhow, she did not speak.
"And to think--" Spot growled--"to think how I used to take care of
Johnnie when he was no more than a baby! Do you suppose this lamb could
take care of a baby? Do you suppose he'd pull a baby out of the mill
pond? Or fight off a bull? Or kill a snake?"
The Muley Cow turned her calm face upon Spot.
"If you're jealous----" she began.
"Jealous!" Spot barked. "Of course I'm not jealous. But I must say that
this Snowball Lamb is very displeasing to me."
"Then why don't you----" the Muley Cow began again.
"I would," Spot interrupted, "I would--only I'm not a sheep-killer. And
I don't intend to become one."
"This boy," said the Muley Cow, "he'll grow tired of that lamb. The
other boys will begin to tease him because the lamb follows him about.
And that will be too much for Johnnie. . . . I know boys," the Muley
Cow declared.
Old dog Spot sighed. "I hope you're not mistaken," he remarked. "Time
will tell. Just now anybody can see that Johnnie Green is simply crazy
about that silly new pet of his."
It was only a few days later that something happened to cause old dog
Spot to lose all hope.
Johnnie Green and his father hitched up the old horse Ebenezer and
started for the village. Of course Spot would have followed them, under
the wagon, if he had been at the barn when they left. But he wasn't. He
was up in the pasture, chasing woodchucks.
Just as old Ebenezer turned the corner at the foot of the hill Johnnie
Green happened to look back. And there was Snowball, following a little
way behind them!
Of course it would never do to let him run all the way to the village
and back. And Farmer Green didn't want to turn around and take Snowball
home. So Johnnie Green jumped down and lifted Snowball into the wagon.
So he rode to the village; and then rode home again.
Johnnie Green was greatly pleased by the whole affair. And Snowball was
pleased, too. As soon as he reached the farmyard he began talking about
his trip to the village.
Everybody listened to Snowball with wonder. That is, everybody wondered
except Henrietta Hen. She began talking in a shrill voice about her
visit to the county fair. And she said spitefully to Snowball, "You'd
better get out of the way before old dog Spot comes back from the
pasture!"
III
MRS. HEN TELLS TALES
Old dog Spot came home from the pasture feeling quite pleased with
himself. He had caught a fat woodchuck. And that was enough to make him
happy.
Spot hadn't crossed the barnyard when Henrietta Hen came fluttering up
to him. She was a busybody, always trying to get somebody into trouble.
"Snowball went to the village with Johnnie Green and his father!"
Henrietta shrieked.
"That's good news," said old dog Spot. "I've been hoping to hear
something like that. We're well rid of that Snowball Lamb."
"Oh! But they brought him back with them!" Henrietta Hen explained.
Spot's face fell. "That's a pity," he said.
Henrietta Hen peered into Spot's face. There was something that she
couldn't understand.
"Why aren't you angry?" she inquired in her high-pitched voice. "Don't
you realize that Snowball tried to _follow the wagon_ to the village? To
be sure, they picked him up down at the corner. But I want you to know
that he tried to _take your place_."
At that old Spot let out a howl of rage.
"I'll never go woodchuck hunting again!" he cried. "Things have come to
a pretty pass if I can't leave the farmyard for a few hours without
having a lamb insult me like that."
Henrietta Hen was pleased.
"I thought you'd want to know what had happened," she remarked. "And now
I must add that Snowball has been boasting about his trip. Of course,
his journey was nothing, compared with my visit to the county fair last
year. But I don't like to hear a lamb telling about his travels. Can't
you put a stop to it?"
Old dog Spot shook his head.
"For once," he said slowly, "I can't help wishing I was a sheep-killer."
"Well," said Henrietta, "you know you could try."
"It's not a question of trying," Spot told her. "My family isn't a
sheep-killing one. I have to live up to the family name."
"Well," Henrietta Hen declared, "if I were you I'd join another
family--at least for a short time."
But old dog Spot declared that that wouldn't do at all. "We'll have to
be patient," he said. "The Muley Cow claims that Johnnie Green will get
tired of Snowball sooner or later. It may be that she is right. Let us
hope so!"
"Farmer Green ought to turn that great lamb into the pasture," Henrietta
Hen spluttered.
That was exactly what Mrs. Green herself thought.
"Your lamb can't come into my kitchen!" she called at that very moment.
For Johnnie Green was just then entering the doorway, with Snowball at
his heels.
"Thank goodness," Spot barked, "there's one person on this farm who has
some sense! If it wasn't for Mrs. Green I'd be tempted to run away."
As Johnnie Green closed the door behind him, leaving Snowball upon the
stone step, Snowball gave a plaintive _baa-a-a!_
"Ugh!" cackled Henrietta Hen. "Did you ever hear such a silly sound in
all your life?"
IV
SCHOOL BEGINS
After Snowball's trip to the village old dog Spot scarcely stirred from
the farmyard. He left the woodchucks to scurry about the pasture as they
pleased. For he felt that he ought to keep an eye on Snowball.
The very next time that Snowball started to follow Johnnie Green out of
the yard Spot ran up to him and barked at his heels. "Go back!" Spot
growled. "Don't you dare leave this yard!"
And then, to Spot's surprise, Johnnie Green picked up a stick and
threatened him with it.
"You let my lamb alone!" Johnnie cried. That was bad enough, according
to old dog Spot's notion. But when Johnnie shouted, "Get out!" at him,
that was worse.
Spot tucked his tail between his legs and slunk away, to hide himself
under the woodshed. And there he stayed for the rest of the morning and
sulked.
But in the afternoon he began to feel more cheerful. For Spot had heard
Mrs. Green remark that school began the next day.
That was good news. At least Spot so thought it.
"This lamb won't get much notice from Johnnie Green after to-day," Spot
told Henrietta Hen. "He'll be left here in the yard. And it won't be
long now before Mrs. Green tells Farmer Green to put him in the pasture
with the flock. She won't have him in everybody's way. She'll get rid
of him quickly. You know that when Mrs. Green makes up her mind, things
generally happen to suit her."
Henrietta nodded her handsome head.
"Just what I've often told the Rooster!" she exclaimed.
Well, the following morning, as much as an hour after breakfast, Johnnie
Green started up the road with some books under his arm and a lunch
basket in his hand. It was the first day of school. And somehow Johnnie
wasn't feeling very happy. He had dawdled about the house--so his mother
said. It appeared that he was in no hurry to leave home.
Before Johnnie had reached the barn, which stood beside the road, Mrs.
Green stepped out of the house and looked at him.
"You'd better get along!" she called after him. "You don't want to be
late the first day of school!"
So Johnnie Green fell into a jog trot, which he kept up all the way to
the red schoolhouse.
As he came in sight of the little box-like building he saw other
youngsters hurrying through the doorway. And then Johnnie ran as fast as
he could.
He burst inside the schoolroom just as the school mistress tapped the
little bell on her desk, which meant that everybody must stop talking,
because school had begun. Johnnie Green hurried to a seat. But before he
reached it all the other pupils burst into a shout.
Johnnie looked around. And there, trotting across the floor, was
Snowball! He had followed Johnnie all the way from Farmer Green's barn.
It was some time before things were quiet. The teacher had to ring her
little bell a good many times, and even rap upon her desk with a ruler,
before the boys and girls stopped laughing. And then the teacher turned
to Johnnie Green and spoke to him.
"Mary!" she said. "Is this your little lamb?"
The teacher seemed surprised because her pupils began to roar at that.
But she made no attempt to silence them. She did not even try to quiet a
certain boy called "Red," who made more noise than all the rest
together.
Meanwhile Johnnie Green's face looked like a great red apple. And it
grew several shades redder when Snowball walked up to his seat and stood
close beside him.
"Don't you think--" said the teacher after a while--"don't you think,
Mary, that you'd better take your little lamb home?"
Johnnie Green did not answer. But he hung his head as he rose and
hurried out of the schoolroom, with Snowball following close behind him.
Once outside Johnnie could hear the children still laughing. And he even
thought that he could hear the teacher laughing, too.
That very morning Snowball found himself turned into the pasture where
Farmer Green's flock of sheep were passing the summer. And it wasn't
long before the whole barnyard was filled with the noise of gossiping
tongues.
"For once," said Henrietta Hen, "the Muley Cow knew what she was talking
about when she said Johnnie Green would grow tired of that white lamb."
As for old dog Spot, he told everybody that he was going up to the
pasture to chase woodchucks.
And as for Johnnie Green, he told his mother that he didn't believe he'd
go back to school any more.
But she said he should, and that very morning.
And things generally happened the way Mrs. Green intended.
V
THE PROMISED TREAT
Snowball wasn't sorry that Johnnie Green had turned him into the
pasture. He found the pasture a delightful place. He had plenty of
company, for there was a whole flock of sheep with him. And not only did
he soon become acquainted with them. He met other folk, such as Billy
Woodchuck and Jimmy Rabbit and old Mr. Crow. And though some of the
older sheep paid scant heed to so young a lamb as Snowball, Mr. Crow
often went out of his way to stop and talk with him.
That was because Mr. Crow loved a bit of gossip. And he was willing to
chat with anybody on the chance of picking up some interesting morsel
of news.
"We're going to have a treat," Snowball informed old Mr. Crow one day.
The old gentleman cocked his head on one side and looked at Snowball.
"How do you know you are?" he demanded. He was a great one for asking
questions.
"The Muley Cow told me," Snowball explained. "Down in the barn she heard
Farmer Green tell Johnnie about it."
"Ah, ha!" cried Mr. Crow. "I'll have to keep an eye on things. If
there's going to be a treat I must get my share of it. . . . Where's
it going to be--where do you expect to have this treat?"
"Right here in this pasture!"
"That's good!" Mr. Crow exclaimed. "I'm glad of that. I can enjoy it,
then. I feared it might be in the barn. And I like plenty of room if
I'm to enjoy a treat properly."
Snowball began to feel a bit uneasy.
"The Muley Cow didn't say anything about your being invited," he
blurted. "In fact she said that this treat was for us sheep only."
"Don't you worry about that!" the old gentleman assured him. "I know
well enough that if Farmer Green didn't mention inviting me it was
because he forgot it. I know he wouldn't like it if I stayed away."
Snowball began to wish he hadn't mentioned the treat to Mr. Crow. But
the secret was out. And when Mr. Crow asked when the treat was going to
be Snowball confessed that the Muley Cow had told him the flock would
enjoy it that very day.
"Ah!" said Mr. Crow with a smirk. "Then I must stay where I can see
what's going on. So I'm going to sit in that tall elm over by the stone
wall. When I see the sheep begin to bunch together I'll join you at
once. . . . Please bleat three times when the treat is ready, for I might
be dozing."
"I will," Snowball promised.
And then Mr. Crow got ready to fly away.
"By the way," he said, pausing, "what's the treat to be?"
"The Muley Cow said she heard Farmer Green tell Johnnie to 'salt the
sheep to-day,'" Snowball explained.
To his great surprise old Mr. Crow let out a deafening squawk when he
heard that bit of news.
"Then I'll keep as far away from the pasture as I can get!" he cried.
VI
MR. CROW EXPLAINS
Snowball couldn't understand old Mr. Crow's rage. Mr. Crow had invited
himself to the treat that Johnnie Green was going to give the flock. But
the moment the old gentleman heard that the treat was going to be _salt_
he had squalled at the top of his hoarse voice that he was going to stay
as far from the pasture as he could get.
"What's the matter?" Snowball asked Mr. Crow. "Don't you like salt?"
Mr. Crow made a wry face.
"No, I don't!" he spluttered.
"Well, just because you don't happen to care for salt is no reason for
your being so angry," Snowball told him.
And then Mr. Crow almost took his breath away.
"I agree with you," he said gruffly! And Mr. Crow was a person who was
never known to agree with anybody! So that was an astonishing remark for
him to make.
"Then I suppose you'll get over being angry, at once," Snowball
ventured.
"I won't!" Mr. Crow thundered. "And take a bit of advice, young fellow:
Don't go near the salting party! It will be dangerous," he added darkly.
"Why will it be dangerous?" Snowball inquired.
The old gentleman shook his head and put on a very wise look.
"I don't believe you've ever been at a salting party," he said.
And Snowball confessed that he hadn't.
Whereat Mr. Crow nodded his head up and down several times and looked
even wiser than before.
"It's lucky for you, my lad, that you told me about this affair," he
declared. "For I'm going to keep you out of a peck of trouble. Don't you
go near the party! Keep just as far away from it as you can! When you
see Johnnie Green come inside the pasture you scramble over the stone
wall and hide!" And now he shook his head.
"It's a pity--" he sighed--"a pity you can't fly, or climb a tree."
He was so gloomy that Snowball couldn't help feeling uncomfortable. And
all he could manage to say was one word which he had hard work to
stammer out. It was "W-w-why?"
"Because it's just a trick!" Mr. Crow explained. "It's a trick to catch
you. This trick of salting the sheep is as old as the hills. But I
suppose you're so young you never have happened to hear of it. I must
say," he added, "I'm surprised that the Muley Cow didn't take the
trouble to tell you all about it."
"Maybe she's too young to know about it, too," Snowball suggested.
"Young!" Mr. Crow cried with a short, mirthless laugh. "The Muley Cow's
not young. She's the oldest cow on the farm. If the truth must be told,
she's so old that Farmer Green wouldn't keep her if it weren't that
Johnnie Green thinks she belongs to him. And he'd raise a terrible row
if his father sold her."
"Are you too young to explain about this trick that you just warned me
against?" Snowball asked. "I'd like to know how there can be any danger
in salt. How can anybody be caught with salt?"
"Well, you _are_ a silly!" cried Mr. Crow. "Can't you guess that Johnnie
Green is going to put salt on everybody's tail?"
VII
WARNING THE FLOCK
Snowball Lamb was puzzled. He didn't understand old Mr. Crow's answer at
all.
"What if Johnnie Green should put salt on my tail?" he asked Mr. Crow.
"What harm would that do?"
The old gentleman stared at Snowball as if he couldn't quite believe
that anybody could be so stupid.
"Haven't you ever heard that that's the way to catch people?" cried Mr.
Crow at last. "Why, there isn't a boy in Pleasant Valley who doesn't
know that; and many of 'em carry salt about in their pockets all the
time, hoping to get a chance some day to put the salt on my tail, and
capture me!" Mr. Crow's bright eyes snapped. And his bill snapped, too.
For the mere thought of such scheming always made him terribly angry.
And then Snowball said something that made Mr. Crow more impatient than
ever.
"I don't care if Johnnie Green does catch me," Snowball declared.
"Johnnie wouldn't hurt me. We've always been great friends."
"He wouldn't, eh?" Mr. Crow retorted. "How do you know he wouldn't hurt
you?"
"He never _has_ hurt me," Snowball replied.
"Perhaps not! Perhaps not!" Mr. Crow croaked. "But you never can tell.
You never can tell what a boy will do. And if you go to the salting
party and get into trouble, don't say I didn't warn you!" As the old
fellow flew off he looked as if all the cares in the world were weighing
him down. Snowball noticed that he flew heavily. It took a great amount
of flapping of his broad wings to lift him out of the pasture. And when
he was well up in the air he gave a glum _caw, caw_ as he wheeled and
sailed away down the wind.
Well, Snowball couldn't help being somewhat disturbed by Mr. Crow's
grave actions and his graver remarks. "I wonder," thought Snowball, "if
Mr. Crow knows what he's talking about. I'll ask the flock!"
So Snowball ran down the hillside pasture to the place where the flock
had gathered to graze. And to his astonishment some of the flock didn't
even lift their heads from the grass when he related all that Mr. Crow
had said. Those that did pause and listen to Snowball only giggled and
went to feeding again. No! there was one that spoke to him. Aunt Nancy
Ewe spoke up a bit tartly.
"If you're worried you'd better stay away when Johnnie Green comes to
salt us," she told him. "_We_ all expect to have a very pleasant time,"
she added.
"Have you ever had salt put on your tail?" Snowball asked the old lady.
"Certainly not!" she snapped. And she glared at Snowball so fiercely
that he fell back several steps. "Are you trying to insult me?" she
cried.
He did not answer. It was plain to him that Aunt Nancy didn't know
anything about the trick of putting salt on one's tail. Yes! Mr. Crow
must be wiser than she was.
"They'll all get into trouble," Snowball thought. And then he said
something that was almost exactly like what Mr. Crow had said to him.
"They can't say I didn't warn them!"
VIII
SALTING THE SHEEP
Snowball Lamb stood in the pasture apart from the rest of the flock.
Aunt Nancy Ewe had returned to her grazing. And not one of her
companions acted as if some dreadful peril hung over him. Nobody would
have thought, to look at the flock, that they were about to have salt
put on their tails. But Snowball knew that it was so. Far down the
valley he could hear old Mr. Crow's warning _caw_, _caw_, telling him
again to beware of Johnnie Green.
And just then Johnnie squirmed through the pasture bars and pulled a
sack after him. Presently he began to call to the sheep. And Snowball
watched while they went, one and all, on a dead run towards the bars.
Then Snowball turned and ran the other way, straight for the stone wall.
He didn't even look back once, but scrambled over the wall and lost
himself in the tangle of berry bushes that grew in a rocky old pasture
that hadn't been used for years.
"He's salting them by this time," Snowball muttered to himself. "Johnnie
Green is salting the sheep. And I'm glad Mr. Crow warned me, for I
shouldn't want salt put on my tail. It must be terrible to be caught
that way."
"What's that you're saying?" said a lively voice near-by.
Snowball leaped back; then stood still and stared at a pair of antlers
which stuck up from behind a berry bush.
The antlers rose a little higher. And then Snowball saw the face of
Nimble Deer beneath them.
"What were you murmuring about _salt_?" Nimble inquired pleasantly.
"Johnnie Green is salting the sheep over in our pasture," Snowball
explained.
"He is, eh?" cried Nimble Deer. "Then why aren't you there with the
rest?"
Snowball shook his head.
"It's too dangerous," he said. "I don't want salt put on my tail."
Nimble Deer gave him a queer look.
"It is dangerous, while Johnnie Green is there--or it would be dangerous
if he had a gun," Nimble admitted. "But what's this you say about salt
on your tail?"
"Johnnie Green is putting salt on the tail of every sheep in the flock,"
Snowball declared.
"That's odd," said Nimble. "I'll have to look into this matter--after
Johnnie Green has left the pasture."
Snowball did not follow Nimble as he moved nearer the stone wall. But he
stood still and watched. Presently he saw Nimble leap the wall. After
that Snowball could no longer see him.
It was some time later when Nimble jumped back over the wall and landed
lightly on the ledge that ran alongside it. And Snowball noticed that
his face wore a very cheerful look.
"Well?" said Snowball.
"That was as good salt as I ever tasted," Nimble remarked, running his
tongue over his lips. "If you hurry you'll be able to get a taste even
now."
"I've never eaten any salt," said Snowball.
"Then hurry, by all means!" cried Nimble Deer. "You don't know what
you're missing."
"Has Johnnie gone?" Snowball inquired.
"Long ago!"
"I suppose he spilled some of the salt on the ground," said Snowball.
"You know he's a very careless boy."
"He spilled heaps of it," Nimble Deer replied. "But the sheep are eating
it fast."
Well, Snowball was puzzled. How could the sheep be eating salt if
Johnnie Green had caught them? It was more than he could understand. But
if Nimble Deer had been with them--and come back safely--there couldn't
be any great danger.
So Snowball hurried over the stone wall and scampered down to the place
near the bars, where the flock still lingered.
As Snowball joined them he saw that they were all busily eating
something white that lay in little piles upon the ground.
He tasted of the stuff, carefully. It was delicious. And wasting no more
time, he gobbled up all of the salt that he could get.
When it was gone Snowball turned to old Aunt Nancy Ewe.
"May I lick the salt off your tail?" he asked her politely.
She gave him a haughty stare.
"Have you no respect for your elders?" Aunt Nancy asked him severely.
"Pardon me!" said Snowball. "Maybe I'm mistaken, but Mr. Crow told
me----"
[Illustration: Aunt Nancy Scolded Snowball
_The Tale of Snowball Lamb._ _Page_ 48]
"Mr. Crow!" Aunt Nancy cried, before Snowball could finish. "So it's Mr.
Crow that's been putting queer ideas into your head! I might have known
it. After this don't ever listen to him! He's been the means of your
almost missing a fine treat--and one that doesn't come every day in the
year."
IX
CIRCUS TRICKS
Johnnie Green had been to the circus. And of course he wanted to try a
good many tricks that he had learned there. At first he made old dog
Spot perform for him. But when he attempted to get Spot to jump through
a hoop of fire the old dog refused flatly to play any more.
That was why Johnnie went to the pasture and brought Snowball Lamb back
to the farmyard.
"Now, Snowball," said Johnnie Green, "I've been to the circus and seen
ever so many kinds of trained animals--horses and elephants and dogs and
monkeys and seals. But I didn't see any trained lamb. If you pay
attention and learn what I try to teach you maybe you and I can join the
circus next year."
Snowball Lamb answered, "_Baa-a-a!_"
"All right!" cried Johnnie. "Now you just jump through this wooden
hoop!"
But it didn't prove to be as easy as all that. Johnnie Green had to work
a long, long time before he succeeded at last in teaching Snowball to
obey him. And then, after Snowball jumped through the hoop in as
graceful a manner as anybody could have asked for, Johnnie was not quite
satisfied.
"You'll have to learn to jump through a paper hoop if we're ever going
to be taken along with the circus," he told Snowball.
Again Snowball answered, "_Baa-a-a!_"
"All right!" said Johnnie. "I'll make some paper hoops. And to-morrow
we'll see what you can do."
So back to the pasture went Snowball. And into the woodshed went Johnnie
Green. There he stayed all the rest of the afternoon, knocking old
barrels apart, chopping and sawing and hammering. He laid newspapers
down upon the floor and trimmed them neatly with his mother's shears. He
made flour paste in the kitchen. And when milking time came he had four
fine hoops all covered with newspaper.
Johnnie wanted to make one more. But his father came along and happened
to pick up a barrel stave, remarking that it was just the thing to make
a boy jump to his work. So Johnnie decided, for some reason or other,
that four hoops would be enough to practice with. Of course when he and
Snowball joined the circus they would need dozens of hoops. But there
wasn't really any hurry about that.
So he went for a milk pail and trotted off to the barn, where he sat
down on his three-legged stool and began milking the Muley Cow.
He couldn't help thinking, as he sat there and sent streams of milk
tinkling down upon the bottom of the tin pail, what a fine scheme it
would be to build a hoop big enough for the Muley Cow to jump through.
It ought to be easy to teach her. For everybody knew that she was a
famous jumper. She made more trouble, jumping the fence, than all the
rest of Farmer Green's herd.
Johnnie Green got to thinking so intently about the matter that he began
to dawdle. And if there was one thing that the Muley Cow didn't like it
was to have to stand still while a slow milker puttered at his work. So
she suddenly gave her tail a switch and brought the end of it across
Johnnie Green's cheek.
It was a stinging smack. And Johnnie Green cried, "Ouch!"
After that he stopped his day-dreaming until milking was over. And then
he went back to the woodshed and gazed at the four paper hoops leaning
against the woodpile.
X
THE TIGER
In the same pasture with Snowball was a black lamb. He was the black
lamb that Farmer Green once gave to Johnnie for a pet. But he ran away
up the lane the very first time Johnnie tried to hold him in his arms.
After that the black lamb had always stayed with the flock. He was a
wild, unruly fellow, bigger and older than Snowball. And he was quite
outspoken--and not always careful of his language.
This black lamb chanced to be near Snowball when Johnnie Green came into
the pasture on a certain fine morning. And when Johnnie began calling
to Snowball the black lamb said, "Why don't you run the other way?
That's what I always do when boys call me."
Snowball made no answer. He stood and looked at Johnnie Green, who was
walking towards him with outstretched hand.
"Come on!" cried the black lamb. "I'll run with you."
"No!" said Snowball. "Johnnie may have something good for me to eat.
Some salt, maybe!"
"Huh!" said the black lamb. "Don't be stupid! What if he has brought you
a little salt? He'll want you to jump through that hoop again for him,
the way he did yesterday." Snowball had told the black lamb about the
strange proceeding of the afternoon before.
"Well--" Snowball murmured, as he hesitated, not knowing whether to
obey the black lamb or Johnnie Green.
"Well! Are you coming with me?" the black lamb demanded. "_I'm_ not
going to stay here where that boy can grab me. _I_ don't intend to spend
my time jumping through any old hoop. _I'm_ not quite so silly as to do
that."
"I believe I'll let Johnnie catch me," Snowball told him. "Johnnie said
something yesterday about our joining the circus. No doubt you've
noticed the circus posters on the side of the barn?"
"I have," said the black lamb with something like a sneer. "No doubt
you've noticed the picture of the tiger?"
"Yes, I have," Snowball admitted.
"My uncle joined a circus once," said the black lamb.
"Is that so?" cried Snowball. "Tell me--did he enjoy it?"
"I can't say," the black lamb replied. "He never came back again. They
fed him to the tiger--so I have been told."
And then the black lamb started to run. And suddenly Snowball whisked
about and followed him.
Johnnie Green wondered what had come over Snowball. Was this the pet
that had once followed him all the way to school?
"I'll keep him tied up in the barn for a few days--once I catch him,"
thought Johnnie. If he intended to teach circus tricks to Snowball he
certainly didn't want to spend valuable time chasing him all around the
pasture.
At last Johnnie Green had Snowball cornered. At last he slipped a rope
about Snowball's neck. And then he led his pet towards the bars.
"_Baa-a-a!_" called the black lamb.
It sounded so much like a jeer that Johnnie turned around and made a
face at the black rascal.
In the barnyard Johnnie brought forth a paper-covered hoop. He held it
up in front of Snowball. "Jump!" he cried.
But Snowball drew back.
"_Baa-a-a!_" he bleated. "How do I know that there isn't a tiger behind
that thing?"
"Come!" Johnnie urged him. "Jump! Jump!"
Snowball only moved further away.
And then Johnnie Green lowered the paper-covered hoop and stepped
forward to grasp Snowball by his fleece.
As Johnnie's hand let the hoop fall Snowball gave a frightened blat.
Staring right at him, and grinning horribly, was a tiger pasted upon the
side of the barn.
Snowball turned and ran towards the gate.
XI
CRACKED CORN
The next time Johnnie Green dragged Snowball into the farmyard he shut
the gate carefully behind him.
"We'll never join the circus if you're going to behave like this,"
Johnnie told Snowball severely. "Now, you pay attention!"
He held up a bare hoop--not a paper-covered one--and when he said,
"Jump!" Snowball showed that he had not forgotten his lesson of the
afternoon before.
"That's better!" cried Johnnie Green. "Jump again!" And when Snowball
jumped once more Johnnie was so pleased that he went into the chicken
house and came back with a handful of cracked corn. "Here!" he said to
Snowball. "There's more like it if you behave yourself."
Snowball munched his corn contentedly.
"The black lamb would like this," he thought. "I'll tell him about this
corn the next time I see him. Then maybe he won't be so quick to call me
stupid."
Somehow the cracked corn made Snowball forget all about the frightful
picture of the tiger that grinned from the side of the barn. And at last
Johnnie succeeded in getting Snowball to jump through one of the paper
hoops which he had so carefully made the day before.
"There!" Johnnie cried. "You've done it at last!" And he was so
delighted that he went once more to the chicken house. And this time he
brought back two handfuls of cracked corn.
Unluckily, just as he came out of the chicken house he met his father
going in.
"Here!" Farmer Green exclaimed. "What are you doing with my chicken
feed?"
"I'm giving a little to Snowball," Johnnie told him.
"Ah!" cried Farmer Green with a sly smile. "Fattening your lamb for
market, eh?"
Johnnie's face fell. "No!" he replied. "Of course not! I wouldn't sell
Snowball. He's--he's too valuable."
Farmer Green guffawed.
"He's a circus lamb!" Johnnie cried hotly. "He's learning circus
tricks!"
"Well," said his father, "maybe I have some circus hens in here, for all
I know. Don't you feed my corn to that lamb!"
"Can your hens jump through paper hoops?" Johnnie asked.
"Can your lamb?" demanded Farmer Green.
"Watch!" said Johnnie then. And, holding up another of the paper-covered
hoops, he persuaded Snowball to leap through it neatly.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" cried Farmer Green--whatever that may mean.
Johnnie Green thought it was a good time to ask a question.
"Mayn't I give him a little corn once in a while?" he begged.
"Oh, I suppose so," said his father. "But if you get him too fat he
won't be much of a jumper."
"But jumping ought to keep him thin," Johnnie insisted.
Just then Snowball gave a plaintive bleat: "_Baa-a-a-a!_"
"There!" Johnnie exclaimed. "He thinks so, too!"
XII
THE ACCIDENT
Snowball was quick to learn one thing. He soon found that jumping
through Johnnie Green's paper-covered hoops brought him plenty of
cracked corn.
No longer did Snowball run away from his young master when Johnnie
entered the pasture and called to him. Nothing that the rascally black
lamb said could persuade Snowball to lead Johnnie Green a chase.
Much to the black lamb's disgust Snowball would start for the bars the
moment Johnnie appeared there. "Johnnie wants to give me a treat!"
Snowball would exclaim. "There's cracked corn waiting for me!" And off
he would go.
Strange as it may seem, Johnnie tired of the circus tricks before
Snowball did. It wasn't long before several days would go by without
Johnnie's once holding up a hoop for Snowball to jump through. And often
Snowball would moon about the farmyard _wishing_ that Johnnie would do
that very thing.
"I hope the cracked corn isn't getting low," said Snowball to himself.
And he cried, "_Ba-a-a-a-a!_" But Johnnie Green paid no heed to him.
Though Johnnie was at that very moment in the swing he never once looked
at Snowball as he roamed mournfully about.
So Snowball crossed the road and strolled up the steep bank opposite the
farmhouse. And having nothing better to do he was about to stroll down
again when he spied something that made him stop short.
Was that a paper-covered hoop that he saw, right there at the top of the
bank? He wondered. It was round. And it was certainly covered with
something that looked like paper.
For a moment Snowball thought he would walk around the hoop--if it was
one--and examine it. He couldn't see anybody holding it up on edge. But
there it was, just waiting for somebody to come along and jump through
it!
"It's a hoop!" Snowball muttered to himself. "There's no doubt about
that." And lowering his head he ran at the hoop--and jumped.
There was a splitting sound and a crash, both at the same time.
Instead of bursting through a thin paper shell and clearing the hoop
neatly Snowball found himself wedged inside something. Though he didn't
know it, he had butted the end of a barrel, knocking in its head and
plunging headlong inside it.
Meanwhile Johnnie Green had stopped swinging. He looked across the road
just in time to see the barrel totter on the edge of the steep bank. Not
only totter; but begin to roll down hill!
Out of the barrel stuck two woolly legs, both kicking frantically.
"What in the world----" Johnnie Green exclaimed. He leaped from the
swing and ran towards the strange sight. But he was too late to help.
The barrel fast gathered headway. It crossed the road like some live
thing, to bring up against the farmhouse with a terrific smash.
Instantly the barrel fell into a dozen pieces as its staves caved in.
And out of the wreck rose Snowball. He gave one frightened bleat. And
then he tore off towards the pasture as fast as he could run. He didn't
even wait to see if Johnnie Green would give him a treat of cracked
corn.
As he ran he said to himself, "There may have been a tiger inside that
thing. . . . I don't know! . . . I wouldn't join the circus for all the
cracked corn in the world!"
XIII
FOLLOW MY LEADER
There was one game of which Farmer Green's sheep never seemed to tire.
They called it "Follow My Leader." And even the oldest members of the
flock played it every day. Though they had grand-children--many of
them--and were quite solemn and sedate, they still continued to run
anywhere whenever somebody happened to lead the way.
You wouldn't suppose they could have enjoyed leaving good pasturage to
go tearing off to goodness knows where, just because some empty-headed
sheep chanced to break into a run.
When Snowball first joined the flock in the pasture he tried to do just
as every one else did. So whenever he saw the flock get under way
suddenly he hastened to keep up with the rest.
At first Snowball was curious to know why they were all running. But
nobody could tell him the reason. And in time he ceased to wonder.
At last he decided, one day, to see if the flock would follow him. He
looked about at his neighbors. They were feeding quietly.
"I hope they'll play the game when I start it," Snowball said under his
breath.
And then, _baaing_ his loudest, he began to run.
The flock stopped eating instantly. For a moment nobody moved.
"They aren't going to play!" thought Snowball.
But an old ewe suddenly wheeled about and followed him.
That was enough for the others. Out of the corner of his eye Snowball
could see them all jump and come crowding after him.
He was headed for the stone wall. Beyond it lay a rough, rocky stretch
of waste land, covered by a tangle of raspberry bushes.
"I wonder if they'll follow me over the wall!" Snowball muttered.
He didn't jump the wall. It was too high for that. But he scrambled over
it without any trouble, for his little feet found plenty of footholds
amid the jutting rocks.
Snowball had already landed on the further side of the wall when _thud!
thud! thud!_ other members of the flock came thumping down upon the
ledge beside him. He moved aside a little way, because he didn't want
to be stepped on.
Then, all at once, a squeaky, frightened voice cried, "What's the
matter? Is there an earthquake?"
Though Snowball looked all about he couldn't see the speaker anywhere.
Meanwhile there sounded a _patter, patter! patter!_ which came from
hurrying feet in the pasture. And there sounded a _click! click! click!_
which came from scrambling feet climbing over the wall. And there
sounded further _thuds_ which came from those same feet as they
thundered down upon the ledge.
At last the slowest sheep had joined Snowball. He still searched for the
squeaky voice.
"This is queer!" Snowball murmured. "I don't see where that odd voice
came from!"
He soon found out. For as he picked his way to the foot of the ledge, to
nibble at the grass that grew down below, he saw peering out of a hole
in the ground the face of a fat old gentleman whom he had sometimes met
in the pasture.
This person's name was Uncle Jerry Chuck. And he looked terribly scared.
His teeth were chattering. His nose was twitching.
Somehow Uncle Jerry's fright seized Snowball, too. With a bleat of
terror he turned and fled up the ledge, scurried over the wall, and ran
back where he had just come from.
Like one sheep the whole flock turned tail and followed Snowball with
frantic _baas_.
XIV
TEASING UNCLE JERRY
Farmer Green's flock of sheep had followed Snowball over the stone wall
and back into the pasture. And soon every one of them was grazing again
as if nothing had happened.
Now, Snowball was greatly pleased. It was the first time he had ever
started that game called Follow My Leader. And there wasn't a sheep nor
a lamb that hadn't gone chasing after him when he showed them the way.
Snowball saw many merry games ahead of him. "I'll give them some good
runs!" he promised himself.
And he did. Before that morning was over he led the flock up to the
furthest corner of the pasture in a mad scramble. And before the
afternoon was over he took them on a brisk run to the bars.
That made three times for the day.
On each summer's day that followed Snowball played Follow My Leader
oftener than he had the day before. So it happened that by the end of a
week, when evening came, the older sheep were weary from all the running
they had done, all the scrambling over the stone wall. For Snowball's
favorite trick was to lead the sheep over the wall and into the tangle
of raspberry bushes where Uncle Jerry Chuck lived.
Snowball had soon learned that there was nothing to fear over there. He
discovered that it was the noise the flock made when leaping down upon
the ledge that alarmed Uncle Jerry Chuck. Drowsing in his underground
chamber Uncle Jerry had thought there must be an earthquake. That was
why his teeth chattered. That was why his nose twitched, when he peeped
out of his doorway.
As soon as Snowball learned all this he took great pains to land upon
the ledge as heavily as he could. He liked to hear Uncle Jerry Chuck's
teeth chatter; he liked to see Uncle Jerry shiver; he liked the sound of
Uncle Jerry's squeaky voice asking what was the matter.
So Snowball enjoyed his days in the pasture--or _in and out_ of it. In
fact he enjoyed them more than anybody else in the flock. For the others
began to grow tired of being led helter-skelter in a headlong flight.
And the old folks especially became annoyed because Snowball took them
so often over the stone wall.
At last the old dame known as "Aunt Nancy," all hung with great folds of
thick fleece, spoke her mind plainly to Snowball himself.
"You're making a nuisance of yourself," she told him. "In all my days I
never knew another youngster--a mere lamb!--to lead the flock. And here
you're making us run our legs off every day! When I was your age we
children never started a game of Follow My Leader. We _followed_ behind
the rest of the flock. We never _led_."
All this was a great surprise for Snowball. "D-don't you like the game?"
he stammered.
"The game's all right," the old lady said. "But nobody cares to play it
a dozen times a day. And nobody enjoys having to clamber over the stone
wall again and again."
Snowball said nothing for a few minutes. He was thinking.
"When I run, why do you follow me if you don't wish to?" he inquired at
last.
"I don't know," the old lady confessed. "Maybe I fell into the habit of
following when I was young. Anyhow, I can't help myself now. I just have
to go along with the others."
Poor lady!
XV
UNCLE JERRY OBJECTS
Snowball really _meant_ to be kind to the elderly dame, Aunt Nancy, who
had objected to being led on the wild goose chases in which he
delighted.
"I mustn't start another game of Follow My Leader," he said to himself.
"Aunt Nancy says she can't help following. And for a person of her years
it must be hard work to run."
But Snowball soon learned that he had set himself a hard task. Soon
afterward he found himself suddenly running. He hadn't _meant_ to run.
Yet there he was, bounding along towards the stone wall as fast as he
could jump! And the whole flock was following him, with Aunt Nancy
puffing hard among the stragglers, doing her best to keep up.
Over the wall went Snowball. Over the wall went all the rest. Aunt Nancy
was the last to leap down upon the ledge where Snowball had stopped. And
he could see that she was upset. He edged away from her. But she
shouldered her friends aside (she was a huge person!) and walked
straight up to him.
"You're a spoiled child," she told Snowball. "Here you've gone and led
us over this wall again! And I just told you I didn't want to run
anywhere--over this wall least of all places!"
Snowball felt much ashamed.
"I--I didn't mean to do it," he faltered. "Something set my feet
a-going. I _had_ to go along with them!"
"Is that so?" she cried in dismay. "My goodness! You've been and gone
and got the habit of being leader! And you can't stop! . . . I don't know
what I'm going to do!" she wailed. "There'll be nothing left of me if
this keeps up. I'll be nothing but fleece and bones if I have to run so
much."
Somehow her friends didn't seem alarmed. Aunt Nancy was very fat. In
fact she was so very, very fat that nobody thought she _could_ waste
away. And everybody smiled a little.
But she didn't notice that. And then a squeaky voice piped up:
"Is there an earthquake?"
It was Uncle Jerry Chuck peeping out of his hole, with his teeth
chattering so fast that it seemed as if they must all drop out of his
mouth.
"There's no earthquake," Aunt Nancy told him. "We just jumped off the
wall upon this ledge--that's all."
"I was sure there was an earthquake," he said. "And the last quake was
the worst of all."
There were more smiles then, for Aunt Nancy herself had been the last of
the flock to plump down off the wall.
"I wish--" said Uncle Jerry Chuck--"I wish, when you folks jump the
wall, you'd pick out a different place. You disturb me a dozen times a
day. I'm losing lots of sleep on your account. And if I continue to lose
my rest I'll be nothing but fur and bones."