'You are behind the times, Dr. Paul,' said Jack. 'That's an ancient
joke. Just look at those sheep, sir. How many are there? Eight
hundred, say?'

'Even more, I should think,--a thousand, certainly; and rather thin
they look, too.'

'I should imagine they might,' said Bell, sympathetically. 'When I
first came to California I never could see how the poor creatures
found anything to eat on these bare, brown hillsides, until the
farmers showed me the prickly little burr clover balls that cover the
ground. But see, mamma! there are some tiny lambs, poor, tired,
weak-legged little things; I wonder if they will live through the
journey.'

'Which reminds me,' said Jack, giving Villikins a touch of the whip,
'that nothing is so calculated to disturb your faith in and love for
lambs as life on a sheep ranch. Innocent! Good gracious! I never
saw such--such--'

'Gasping, staggering, stuttering, stammering tom-fools,' interposed
Bell. 'That's what Carlyle called ONE Lamb,--dear Mr. "Roast Pig"
Charles; and a mean old thing he was, too, for doing it.'

'Well, it is just strong enough to apply to the actual lamb; not the
lamb of romance, but the lamb of reality. You can't get him
anywhere; he doesn't know enough. He won't drive, he can't follow;
he's too stupid. Why, I went out for a couple of 'em once, that were
lost in the canyon. I found them,--that was comparatively easy; but