y times about this, for he was one of those trying children
who will not mind when first spoken to.

He did not really mean to be naughty--he was only strong and frisky and
thoughtless. Sometimes he was even rude to his mother. She felt very sad
when this was so, yet she loved him dearly and found many excuses for
him in her own heart.

There were three other pairs of twins in the flock that year, and as
their mothers were not strong enough to care for two Lambs apiece, the
farmer had taken one twin from each pair to a little pen near the house.
Here they stayed, playing happily together, and drinking milk from a
bottle which the farmer's wife brought to them. They were hungry very
often, like all young children, and when their stomachs began to feel
empty, or even to feel as if they might feel empty, they crowded against
the side of the pen, pushed their pinkish-white noses through the
openings between the boards, and bleated and bleated and bleated to the
farmer's wife.

Soon she would come from the kitchen door and in her hand would bring
the big bottle full of milk for them. There was a soft rubber top to
this bottle, through which the Lambs could draw the milk into their
mouths. Of course they all wanted to drink at once, though there was
only a chance for one, and the others always became impatient while they
were waiting. The farmer's wife was patient, even when the Lambs, in
their hurry to get the milk, took her fingers into their mouths and bit
them instead of the top of the bottle.

Our twin Lamb wanted to have his sister taken into the pen with the
other three, and he spoke about it to his mother. "I know how you can
manage," said he. "Whenever she comes near you, just walk away from her,
and then the farmer will take her up to the pen."

"You selfish fellow!" answered his mother. "Do you want your dear little
twin sister to leave us?"

He hung his head for a minute, but replied, "She'd have just as good a
time. They have all they can eat up there, and they have lots of fun."

[Illustration: FEEDING THE LAMBS.]

"If you think it is so pleasant in the pen," said his mother, "suppose I
begin to walk away from you, and let the farmer take you away. I think
your sister would rather stay with me."

"Oh, no!" cried her son. "I don't want to leave my own dear woolly
mother! I want to cuddle up to you every night and have you tell me
stories about the stars."

"Do you think you love me very much?" said sh