"You've the lovesome hand with the beasties," said Pan as he smiled down on
the lambs and me.

[Illustration: A poor old sheep was lying flat with pathetic inertia while
Adam stood over her with something in his arms]

"I like 'em because they make me sorter grow inside some place, I don't
know exactly where," I answered as I adjusted my woolly burden for what I
knew would seem a long march. "I'll get 'em to the barn all right," I
assured their first friend, who was now bending over the poor mother. "This
is what I took Russian ballet dancing and played golf for, only I didn't
know it."

"You'd have executed more Baskt twists and done more holes a day if you had
known," said Adam, with beautiful unbounded faith in me, as he braced his
legs far apart and lifted the limp mother sheep up across his back and
shoulder. It seemed positively weird to be standing there acting a scene
out of Genesis and mentioning Baskt, and I was about to say so when Pan
started on ahead through the bushes and commanded me briefly to: "Come on!"

At his heels I toiled along with the sheep babies hugged close to my breast
until at last we deposited all three on a bed of fragrant hay in a corner
of the barn.

"What'll I feed 'em?" I questioned anxiously. "There isn't a bit of any
kind of food on this place but the ribs of a hog and a muffin and a cup of
coffee."

"We'll give her a quart of hot water with a few drops of this heart