then you shall have your share of it."

"Oh, thank you!" said the boy, and he ran away to tell his mother what
the Black Sheep had said.

When the farmer came into the field again the Black Sheep said to him,
"Master, how many bags of wool did you cut from my back?"

"Two bags full," replied the farmer; "and it was very nice wool
indeed."

"If I grow three bags full the next time, may I have one bag for
myself?" asked the sheep.

"Why, what could you do with a bag of wool?" questioned the farmer.

"I want to give it to the little boy that lives in the lane. He is
very poor and needs a new coat."

"Very well," answered the master; "if you can grow three bags full I
will give one to the little boy."

So the Black Sheep began to grow wool, and tried in every way to grow
the finest and heaviest fleece in all the flock. She always lay in the
sunniest part of the pastures, and drank from the clearest part of the
brook, and ate only the young and juicy shoots of grass and the
tenderest of the sheep-sorrel. And each day the little boy came to the
bars and looked at the sheep and enquired how the wool was growing.

"I am getting along finely," the Black Sheep would answer, "for not