Chapter 4

For the first time since he had come to the farm to live Snowball lowered his head at the black ram. And he didn't even wait for the black ram to make the first move. Instead, Snowball charged him.

A moment later they met, head to head, with a shock that knocked Snowball off his feet.

"My goodness!" Snowball exclaimed as he picked himself up. "You're bigger than you look."

"Do you want any more?" the black ram demanded fiercely. "I've done you the honor to knock you down. Is once enough?"

Snowball thought once was even too much. He left the black ram hurriedly and ran down toward the bars.

Some very odd looking creatures were entering the pasture.

XXIII

A MYSTERY

As Snowball drew near the pasture bars he forgot about the blow on the head that the black ram had given him. The strange sights that greeted his eyes drove all unpleasant things out of his mind.

Snowball knew that the sheep he saw before him must be his old companions. But they were so changed, by shearing, that he couldn't tell who was who.

He stood still and stared at them and grinned.

"What amuses you, young man?" one of them asked him in a tart voice. The speaker was a big old dame. Even with her fleece closely cropped she looked undeniably fat. Yet she was wrinkled, too. And her neck had a scrawny look.

Not until she spoke did Snowball guess that this person was Aunt Nancy Ewe. The moment he heard her voice he knew her. And he couldn't help laughing right in her face.

"Don't be rude, young man!" Aunt Nancy scolded. "Anybody would think you had never seen a sheared flock before."

"I haven't," Snowball answered. "You're all so funny that I can't keep my face straight."

"Well," she said, "you'll have a chance to laugh at yourself a little later. For you'll certainly be sheared too."

Snowball turned sober instantly.

"Oh! Do you think so?" he cried.

"They'll never let you keep that fleece on all summer," Aunt Nancy declared.

She had scarcely finished speaking when Farmer Green came into the pasture. And Snowball was sure that Farmer Green looked directly at him. But before Snowball could make up his mind to run, Johnnie Green came hurrying after his father, and shouting.

"Don't touch Snowball!" he called. "Don't you shear him!"

"Why not?" his father asked him.

"Because," said Johnnie, "I want to shear him myself. He belongs to me."

"Very well!" his father replied. "Now we're here we may as well catch him. And you can begin shearing him. It will probably take you all day, because you've never sheared a sheep before."

"I don't want to shear him now," said Johnnie. "I'm going fishing to-day. I'll do it to-morrow."

Then Farmer Green and Johnnie went away. And they hadn't passed the bars when a great uproar broke out. The whole flock crowded around Snowball. And everybody except him said, "_Baa!_"

"He laughs best who laughs last," Aunt Nancy remarked to him. "To-morrow we'll laugh best--at you!"

But Snowball stood his ground and shook his head.

"I'm not going to be sheared," he declared. "I guess you don't know what Johnnie Green's 'to-morrow' means. . . . It means 'never!'"

Snowball really thought he was right about that.

The next morning he found that he had been mistaken. For Johnnie Green came and cornered--and caught--him. And amid a chorus of _baas_ Johnnie led Snowball to the barn.

"Let's wait at the bars until Johnnie brings Snowball back!" cried the young black ram, who bad knocked Snowball down the day before. "We want to give him a good welcome when he comes back without his fleece."

"It's useless to wait," said Aunt Nancy. "You know Farmer Green said it would take Johnnie all day to shear him."

Along toward noon the black ram came hurrying to the upper end of the pasture, where most of the sheep were feeding.

"Snowball's here!" he blatted. "And he's sheared, too!"

And just then Aunt Nancy Ewe came puffing and panting to join the others.

"Snowball's back in the pasture!" she gasped. "And he isn't sheared at all!"

Well, nobody knew what to think of that.

XXIV

HALF AND HALF

All the sheep in the pasture hurried down the hillside toward the bars to look at Snowball. And soon dozens of disputes might have been heard: "He is!" "He isn't!" "He's sheared!" "He's not!" About half the flock were sure Johnnie Green had sheared Snowball; while the other half were just as sure that Snowball still wore his fleece.

At last Aunt Nancy Ewe went close to Snowball and walked all the way around him. And when she joined her friends she announced that she had solved the mystery.

"Snowball is sheared on one side only!" she exclaimed.

It was true. And the moment the flock learned what had happened they set up a deafening _baaing_. "_Baa-ha-ha-ha-ha!_" they laughed. "Now who's a sight?" they asked Snowball. "Now who looks funny?"

Poor Snowball couldn't say a word. He hung his head. For he was terribly ashamed of his appearance.

"It's not my fault," he wailed at last. "When Johnnie Green had me half sheared that horrid boy Red came along and asked Johnnie to go fishing. And you know Johnnie Green! He can't miss a fishing trip. . . . He said he'd finish shearing me to-morrow."

"Ha!" cried Aunt Nancy Ewe. And she flung at Snowball the very words he had used the day before. "Johnnie Green's 'to-morrow' means 'never!'"

"Oh! I hope not!" cried Snowball. "That would be awful!"

Somehow Snowball managed to get through that first dreadful day. But the following day he gave up all hope; for Johnnie Green never came near him. Nor did he come the next day, nor the next, nor the next.

Little by little the sheep stopped teasing Snowball. Little by little he became used to having one side of him sheared and the other side thick with fleece.

For some time he tried to keep as much out of sight as possible, grazing along the stone wall where he could bury himself in the bushes whenever one of the flock strayed near him. Or if he couldn't hide, he took pains to stand so that only one side of him should show.

It was a long while before his neighbors stopped smiling when they saw him. But finally there were only two in the flock that couldn't seem to forget how ridiculous Snowball looked. These were the young black ram and old Aunt Nancy Ewe. And perhaps they can't be blamed, because Snowball had once openly made fun of them. When they were near him Snowball was very uncomfortable. But with the rest of the flock he felt more at his ease. And sometimes he even went so far as to say that he _enjoyed_ being half sheared.

"On a cool day I find it pleasant to turn my clipped side toward the sun," he would remark. "And if there's a chilly wind I don't have to shiver. I let it blow against my fleecy side; and I never feel it."

In two weeks Snowball was claiming that he _preferred_ to be only half sheared.

Maybe that was true. Maybe he was only trying to make himself think it was. Anyhow, when Johnnie Green came into the pasture one day and called to him Snowball bounded down the grassy slope toward the bars.

And when he came back to the pasture, some time later, he didn't look very different from his companions. One side of him, however, showed a pinkish tinge, because Johnnie Green had just sheared that side very close. And the fleece on his other side had already begun to grow out a bit.

But Snowball didn't mind that. He had a pink nose, always. And he said that pink was his favorite color.

And never again did he laugh at anybody, no matter how queer a person might look.

THE END

SLUMBER-TOWN TALES

(Trademark Registered.)

By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY

AUTHOR OF THE SLEEPY-TIME TALES and TUCK-ME-IN TALES

=Colored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH=

These are fascinating stories of farmyard folk for boys and girls from about four to eight years of age.

THE TALE OF MISS KITTY CAT

When Mrs. Rat saw Miss Kitty Cat washing her face, she knew it meant rain. And she wouldn't let her husband leave home without his umbrella.

THE TALE OF HENRIETTA HEN

Henrietta Hen was an empty-headed creature with strange notions. She never laid an egg without making a great fuss about it.

THE TALE OF THE MULEY COW

The Muley Cow belonged to Johnnie Green. He often milked her; and she seldom put her foot in the milk pail.

THE TALE OF TURKEY PROUDFOOT

A vain fellow was Turkey Proudfoot. He loved to strut about the farmyard and spread his tail, which he claimed was the most elegant one in the neighborhood.

THE TALE OF PONY TWINKLEHEELS

Pony Twinkleheels trotted so fast you could scarcely tell one foot from another. Everybody had to step lively to get out of his way.

THE TALE OF OLD DOG SPOT

Old dog Spot had a keen nose. He was always ready to chase the wild folk. And he always looked foolish when they got away from him.

THE TALE OF GRUNTY PIG

Grunty pig was a great trial to his mother. He found it hard not to put his feet right in the feeding trough at meal time.

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

TUCK-ME-IN TALES

(Trademark Registered)

By ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY

AUTHOR OF THE SLEEPY-TIME TALES and SLUMBER-TOWN TALES

=Colored Wrapper and Text Illustrations Drawn by HARRY L. SMITH=

A delightful and unusual series of bird and insect stories for boys and girls from three to eight years old, or thereabouts.

THE TALE OF JOLLY ROBIN

Jolly Robin spreads happiness everywhere with his merry song.

THE TALE OF OLD MR. CROW

A wise bird was Mr. Crow. He'd laugh when any one tried to catch him.

THE TALE OF SOLOMON OWL

Solomon Owl looked so solemn that many people thought he knew everything.

THE TALE OF JASPER JAY

Jasper Jay was very mischievous. But many of his neighbors liked him.

THE TALE OF RUSTY WREN

Rusty Wren fought bravely to keep all strangers out of his house.

THE TALE OF DADDY LONG-LEGS

Daddy Long-Legs could point in all directions at once--with his different legs.

THE TALE OF KIDDIE KATYDID

He was a musical person and chanted all night during the autumn.

THE TALE OF BETSY BUTTERFLY

Betsy spent most of her time among the flowers.

THE TALE OF BUSTER BUMBLEBEE

Buster was clumsy and blundering, but was known far and wide.

THE TALE OF FREDDIE FIREFLY

Freddie had great sport dancing in the meadow and flashing his light.

THE TALE OF BOBBY BOBOLINK

Bobby had a wonderful voice and loved to sing.

THE TALE OF CHIRPY CRICKET

Chirpy loved to stroll about after dark and "chirp."

THE TALE OF MRS. LADYBUG

Mrs. Ladybug loved to find out what her neighbors were doing and to give them advice.

GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired.

Final page, "Crirpy" changed to "Chirpy" (Chirpy loved to stroll)

End of Project Gutenberg's The Tale of Snowball Lamb, by Arthur Bailey