But soon the man drove out of the lots to a smooth road, and then the Lamb felt better.

“Now we’ll stop at the Big House,” said the man, as he drove up along a back road and stopped at a gate in a high fence.  “Whoa!” he called to his horse, and when the horse stopped the man got down off the seat, leaving the Lamb still there.

The man who had the load of wood opened the gate in the fence, and just then another man came out.

“Hello, Patrick!” called the wood man.  “I was driving past and I just thought I’d stop and see if there was any trash you wanted carted off to the dump.  Of course I can’t take it now, as I have on a load of wood,” he added.  “But I can come back later.”

“Oh, so you have a load of wood, have you?” asked Patrick, who had a garden rake in his hand.  “Where did you get it?” and he walked toward the wagon, letting the garden gate swing shut behind him.

“Found it down in the lot near the brook.  Some boys had made a raft, but I guess they got tired of playing with it, so I took the planks and boards.  I found something else, too, Patrick!” “You did?  What was that, Mike?”

“A toy woolly Lamb on Wheels,” answered the odd-job man.  “It was on the raft.  I brought it along with me.  There it is, up on the seat,” and he pointed to the toy.

“A Lamb!  A toy Lamb on Wheels!” exclaimed Patrick.  “Well, if this isn’t strange!  I never would have believed it!”

“What’s the matter?” asked the odd-job man, as Patrick looked more closely at the Lamb on the wagon seat.  “What’s the matter?”

“Why, this is Mirabell’s Lamb!  The one she has been looking for!” cried Patrick.  “I hunted down in our cellar for this Lamb, but I didn’t find her.  And now you have her on a load of wood!  How strange!  Where did you say you found her?”

“On the raft,” answered the odd-job man.  “But who is Mirabell?”

“A little girl who lives next door,” explained Patrick, the gardener.  “She plays with our Dorothy, and Mirabell’s Uncle Tim brought her a Lamb on Wheels.  Mirabell had her Lamb out in the street, but she left it for a moment and then it disappeared.  Now here it is!”

“Are you sure it’s the same one?” asked the odd-job man.

“Quite sure,” answered Patrick, and, oh, how the Lamb wished she dared speak out and say that she certainly was that very same toy!  And how she wished they would take her to Mirabell!

“We can soon tell if this is Mirabell’s Lamb,” went on Patrick.  “I’ll take it to her.  If you want to you can unload that wood here.  My master will buy it and I can chop it up.  Then you can cart away some trash in your wagon.”

“I’ll do that,” said the odd-job man.  “I guess the Lamb brought me good luck.  I was thinking maybe I could sell this wood after I had chopped it up myself, but I’d rather sell it as it is.  And I can then cart away the trash.”

“Well, you be unloading the wood,” said Patrick, “and I’ll go see if this is Mirabell’s Lamb.  But I am very sure it is,”