going to be proud, or stuck up," went on the Lamb to herself.

"Oh, look at her go!" cried Dick.

"Yes, but I hope she won't be hurt," said the little girl. "I wouldn't
want my Lamb on Wheels that Uncle Tim just gave me to be hurt."

"I should say not!" thought the Lamb to herself. "Sliding down ironing-
board hills may be something not many other toys can do, but I don't
want anything to happen."

Faster and faster she went, and finally she reached the end of the board
and came to the smooth oilcloth on the floor. Then the wheels carried
her across that to the far side of the room, and the Lamb brought up
with a little bump against the baseboard.

"Oh, I hope she isn't hurt!" cried Mirabell, as she ran to pick up her
toy.

And the Lamb was all right--there was not even a kink out of place in
her soft, woolly coat.

So Mirabell and Arnold had fun letting the Lamb on Wheels coast down the
ironing-board hill. Again and again they gave her a nice, long slide
across the smooth oilcloth on the kitchen floor.

"Now this is the last," said Mirabell, after a while. "I want to put her
to sleep."

Once more the Lamb was lifted to the high part of the ironing board and