“No, thank you, not now,” Arnold’s sister answered.  “I’m going to get a comb and brush and make my Lamb’s wool all nice and fluffy.  She got all mussed when you banged her into the corner.”

“I’m sorry,” said Arnold again.  “Do you want me to brush her off for you?”

“I guess not!” laughed Mirabell.  “Once you tried to get the tangles and snarls out of the hair of one of my dolls, and you ’most pulled her head off.”

“All right.  Then I’ll take this puzzle and show it to Dick and Dorothy,” decided Arnold.

“Who are Dick and Dorothy?” asked Uncle Tim.

“The little boy and girl who live next door,” Mirabell explained.  “Dorothy has a Sawdust Doll, and Dick has a White Rocking Horse.  They came from the same store where you got my Lamb on Wheels!”

“Is that so?” cried the jolly sailor.  “Well, you’ll have to take your Lamb over next door and let her meet her toy friends again.”

“I’m going to,” Dorothy said.  “Oh, Uncle Tim, don’t you believe Dolls, and Lambs, and things like that, really know one another when they meet?”

“I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if they did,” answered the sailor.  “You take your Lamb over and see if she remembers the Sawdust Doll and the White Rocking Horse.”

“I will!” promised Mirabell.

And when the Lamb heard this, though just then she dared not move by herself or speak, she felt very happy.  For, as I have told you, though she dared not move when human eyes were looking at her, there was nothing to stop her from hearing what was said.  The Lamb had ears, and what good would they be if she could not hear through them, I’d like to know?

“Oh, I am so glad I am going to see the Sawdust Doll and the Rocking Horse again,” thought the Lamb.  “I hope I get a chance to talk to them when no one is looking.  I want to tell them about their friends that are still in the toy store.”

While Arnold hurried next door with his toy fire engine, that pumped real water, to play with Dick and to show his puzzle, Uncle Tim went downstairs to talk to Mirabell’s mother.  Then Mirabell got her best doll’s comb and brush, which were just the right size, and not a bit too small or too large, and with this comb and brush she smoothed the kinks and snarls out of the Lamb’s wool.

For when Arnold had opened the door so suddenly, banging the Lamb into a corner, though he did not mean to do it, he had tangled the woolly coat of the toy.

“But I’ll soon smooth it out,” thought Mirabell, as she used comb and brush.  “And I won’t hurt you, either, my nice Lamb!”

And Mirabell was so careful that the Lamb never once cried Baa-a! as almost any other lamb would do if you pulled her wool.

The little girl had made her Lamb nice and tidy, and she was going downstairs, Mirabell was, to see what Uncle Tim was doing, when Arnold came back from Dick’s house with the toy fire engine and the wooden puzzle the sailor had made for him.