"Wait a minute! Stop! Oh, please stop!" begged Mirabell.

"Whut's dat? Whut's de mattah?" asked the coal-wagon driver.

He was a colored man, and that was the very best shade for him, I think.
No matter how much coal dust got on his face and hands it never showed.

"Her little Lamb fell down the coal hole," explained Arnold. "Carlo got
tangled in the string, it broke and she fell down the hole. Don't throw
any more coal on her until we get her out."

"Does you-all mean dat Carlo fell down de hole?" asked the colored coal-
wagon driver.

"No, Carlo is a dog," explained Mirabell. "He got tangled up in my
Lamb's string, and she fell down the hole. I haven't named my Lamb yet.
She's on wheels."

"On wheels?" cried the man. "A Lamb on Wheels? Well, I 'clar to goodness
dat's de fustest time I ebber done heah ob a t'ing laikdat!"

"Oh, she isn't a real, live lamb," explained Mirabell. "She's a toy,
woolly one from the store, and my Uncle Tim, who's a sailor, gave her to
me."

"Well now, honey, I suah is sorry to heah dat!" said the colored man.
"Your toy Lamb down de coal hole! Dat is too bad!"

"Can we get her out?" asked Arnold. "I'll crawl down the hole and get