one sheep in the pasture has so much wool as I have grown already."

"Can I do anything to help you?" asked the little boy.

"Not that I think of," replied the sheep, "unless you could get me a
little salt. I believe salt helps the wool to grow."

So the boy ran to the house and begged his mother for a handful of
salt, and then he came back to the bars, where the Black Sheep licked
it out of his hand.

Day by day the wool on the sheep grew longer and longer, and even the
old ram noticed it and said, "You are foolish to grow so much wool,
for the farmer will cut it all off, and it will do you no good. Now I
am growing just as little as possible, for since he steals what I have
I am determined he shall get very little wool from my back."

The Black Sheep did not reply to this, for she thought the old ram
very ill-tempered and selfish, and believed he was doing wrong not to
grow more wool. Finally the time came to shear the sheep again, and
the farmer and his man came into the pasture to look at them, and were
surprised to see what a fine, big fleece the Black Sheep had grown.

"There will be three bagsful at the least," said the master, "and I
will keep my promise and give one to the little boy in the lane. But,
my goodness! how scraggly and poor the old ram looks. There is
scarcely any wool on him at all. I think I must sell him to the
butcher!"

And, in truth, although the ram kicked and struggled and bleated with