"What did I do?" asked Arnold, who was taken by surprise by the way his
sister called to him.

"You broke my new toy, the Lamb on Wheels," answered the little girl.
"Oh, I hope she isn't killed!" and running to the corner, she picked up
her new toy.

"Oh, I didn't mean to do that," said Arnold, who was sorry enough for
the accident. "I didn't know you were in here," he went on. "I came to
get my toy fire engine. I'm going to play with Dick and his express
wagon. Where'd you get your Lamb on Wheels, Mirabell?"

"Uncle Tim brought her to me," answered the little girl.

Mirabell carefully looked at her plaything. And she was very glad to
find out that no damage seemed to have been done. None of the four
wheels was broken, the little wooden platform on which the Lamb stood
was not splintered, and there was not so much as a bruise on the little
black nose of the Lamb herself.

"I guess she is so soft and woolly that she didn't get hurt much,"
Mirabell said, turning the Lamb over and over. "She's so fat and soft--
like a rubber ball," she added.

"I'm glad of that," said Arnold. "Next time I come into a room I'll look
near the door to see that there isn't a Lamb behind it"

"That's the boy!" exclaimed Uncle Tim. "And here is something I brought
for you, Arnold. I didn't buy it in a toy store. It's a little wooden