“What kind of toy?” asked the girl behind the counter.  “We have many kinds here,” and she smiled at the sailor.  He was so jolly no one could help smiling at him.  “We have Bold Tin Soldiers,” went on the girl.  “We have Calico Clowns, Candy Rabbits, a Monkey on a Stick, and a Lamb on Wheels, and lots of things.”

“Hum! those are all very nice toys,” said the jolly sailor.  “But I think I’d like to look at the Lamb on Wheels.”

“There she is, right in front of you, on the floor,” said the girl.

“Oh, ho!  So this is the Lamb on Wheels!” cried the jolly sailor as he picked her up.  “Well, this seems just the toy I want.  I’ll take her!  I’ll buy this Lamb on Wheels!”

“Oh, dear me!” thought the Lamb, for she knew what was going on, even though she dared not move by herself, or speak, “if this sailor buys me he’ll take me on an ocean trip and I’ll be seasick!  Oh, dear, this is going to be dreadful!”

CHAPTER III

A HOME ON SHORE

The jolly sailor held in his hands the Lamb on Wheels.  He looked her over carefully, and rubbed her warm, woolly sides.  Though his hand was not as soft as was that of the little girl who had stroked the Lamb the day before, yet the sailor was gentle in his touch.

“Well, I suppose there is no use thinking any longer of having a home like the one the Sawdust Doll got, with her little girl mistress to love her,” said the Lamb on Wheels to herself.  “I am to be taken away by this sailor—­away out to sea.  I never could stand sailing, anyhow.  Oh, dear! why do I have to go?”

“Does she squeak?” asked the sailor of the clerk, as he held the Lamb in his hands.

“Oh, no.  She isn’t that kind of Lamb,” answered the clerk, with a laugh.  “She is just a Lamb on Wheels, and she has real wool on her back and sides and legs.  She does not squeak or go baa-a-a-a, and if you want her to move you have to pull her along.”

“Well, I was going to get a Lamb that squeaked,” went on the sailor, “but I suppose this one will do just as well.”

“We have a Calico Clown who bangs his cymbals together when you press on his stomach or chest,” said the girl.  “See this toy!  Maybe you would like this!”

She picked up the Calico Clown in his gaily colored suit, and, pressing on him in the middle, she made him bang his cymbals together.

“That is a jolly toy,” said the sailor.  “Let me see it.”

He took up the Calico Clown, and did as the girl clerk had done.

“Bing!  Bang!  Bung!” went the cymbals.

“Oh, I hope he buys me,” thought the Clown.  “I should love to go to sea on a ship.”

But the sailor appeared to like the Lamb on Wheels best.  He took her up again, and the Lamb, who had begun to hope that she might not have to go to sea, felt sad again.

“I’ll take this Lamb on Wheels,” said the sailor.  “How much is it?” and he pulled out his pocketbook, as he tucked the lamb under his arm.