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,"
Leaning his rake up against the back fence, Patrick walked up the garden
path, around the "Big House," as the odd-job man had called it, and then
the gardener went toward the house where Mirabell lived.
The little girl, who had hunted all over for her Lamb on Wheels and was
feeling very sad because she had not found it, was in the kitchen
getting a cookie from Susan, the cook, when Patrick knocked on the back
door.
Pages:
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84