"Oh, I'm so glad! Thank you, Arnold!" exclaimed his sister.

She ran forward and picked up her Lamb on Wheels. And, I am glad to say,
the wool was not even scorched, not the least, tiny bit.

"Oh, she's all right! She's all right! My Lamb isn't hurt a bit,
Arnold," cried Mirabell.

"I told you I'd save her," said the boy. "But you mustn't ever run near
a fire yourself, Mirabell. Wait for me to put it out with my engine.
That's what fire engines and fire departments are for."

"Dear me! that came near being a terrible adventure for me," thought the
Lamb on Wheels, as Mirabell carried her back from the fireplace. "In
another minute I would have been all ablaze from that paper, and wool
does burn so fast!"

When the Lamb had been saved, the mother of the two children came into
the sitting room.

"What is burning?" she cried. "Have you been playing with fire?"

"No, Mother," answered Arnold, and he told what had happened.

As the days passed Mirabell came to love her Lamb on Wheels more and
more. Sometimes the little girl would tie a string to the wooden
platform, on which her toy stood, and pull the Lamb around the house, as
Arnold used to pull his little express wagon.