“Well, yes, only it’s a bit crowded,” answered the Wooden Lion.  “But it has to be that way, I suppose.  I like it better in this playroom, as I can move about more.  But still I was lonesome until you came.  Let us be friends, and tell each other our adventures.”

So the Lamb told of the fun she had had in the toy store with the Bold Tin Soldier, the Calico Clown, and the others.  She told of having been taken away by the jolly sailor, and how afraid she was that she would be seasick.

“But it was all right when I found he was bringing me to a home on shore with Mirabell,” said the Lamb.  Then she told of her slide down the ironing board.

“Now I will tell you some of the things that happened to me,” said the Wooden Lion.  So he related his adventures—­how once he and the other animals had been jumbled together and piled into the Ark.

“And then, all of a sudden, that boy Arnold took the Ark and dropped it in the bathtub full of water, with all us animals inside!” said the Lion.

“Good gracious! why did he do that?” asked the Lamb, in surprise.

“Oh, he said he was pretending there was another flood, and he wanted to see if any of us could swim,” the Lion answered.

“Could you?” the Lamb wanted to know.

“Well, those of us who couldn’t swim could float, so none of us was drowned,” the Lion answered.  “Only being soaked in the water, as I was, made some of the paint come off my tail.  I really haven’t been the same Lion since,” he added, with a sorrowful sigh.

“That is too bad,” said the Lamb sympathetically.

“Of course Arnold was smaller than he is now, and he was not so kind to his toys as he has since learned to be,” resumed the Wooden Lion.  “He really meant no harm.  But, as I say, I am the only one of the Noah’s Ark animals left, and really I am very glad to have you to talk to.”

The two new friends spent some time together telling each other their different adventures, and then, suddenly, the door of the playroom opened and Mirabell came in.

“Hush!  Not another word!” said the Wooden Lion in a whisper.

“Well, I guess my Lamb has slept long enough,” said Mirabell, picking up her new toy.  “I’ll have some fun with her before I go to bed.”

She petted her Lamb, and took off the blue ribbon from the woolly creature’s neck.

“I must smooth it out and tie a better bow,” said Mirabell.  “It got all mussed when you slid down the ironing board.”

So Mirabell played with her Lamb until it was time for the little girl to go to bed.  Uncle Tim came up to see Mirabell and Arnold to say good-bye, for he was going on a sea voyage.

“And bring me a parrot when you come back!” begged Arnold.

“Would you like a monkey, Mirabell?” asked the jolly sailor.

“No, thank you,” she answered.  “A monkey is nice, but he might pull the wool off my Lamb.”