The Tale of Snowball Lamb Part 7

They called it "Follow My Leader." And even the oldest members of the flock played it every day. Though they had grand-children--many of them--and were quite solemn and sedate, they still continued to run anywhere whenever somebody happened to lead the way.

You wouldn't suppose they could have enjoyed leaving good pasturage to go tearing off to goodness knows where, just because some empty-headed sheep chanced to break into a run.

When s...o...b..ll first joined the flock in the pasture he tried to do just as every one else did. So whenever he saw the flock get under way suddenly he hastened to keep up with the rest.

At first s...o...b..ll was curious to know why they were all running. But n.o.body could tell him the reason. And in time he ceased to wonder.

At last he decided, one day, to see if the flock would follow him. He looked about at his neighbors. They were feeding quietly.

"I hope they'll play the game when I start it," s...o...b..ll said under his breath.

And then, _baaing_ his loudest, he began to run.

The flock stopped eating instantly. For a moment n.o.body moved.

"They aren't going to play!" thought s...o...b..ll.

But an old ewe suddenly wheeled about and followed him.

That was enough for the others. Out of the corner of his eye s...o...b..ll could see them all jump and come crowding after him.

He was headed for the stone wall. Beyond it lay a rough, rocky stretch of waste land, covered by a tangle of raspberry bushes.

"I wonder if they'll follow me over the wall!" s...o...b..ll muttered.

He didn't jump the wall. It was too high for that. But he scrambled over it without any trouble, for his little feet found plenty of footholds amid the jutting rocks.

s...o...b..ll had already landed on the further side of the wall when _thud!

thud! thud!_ other members of the flock came thumping down upon the ledge beside him. He moved aside a little way, because he didn't want to be stepped on.

Then, all at once, a squeaky, frightened voice cried, "What's the matter? Is there an earthquake?"

Though s...o...b..ll looked all about he couldn't see the speaker anywhere.

Meanwhile there sounded a _patter, patter! patter!_ which came from hurrying feet in the pasture. And there sounded a _click! click! click!_ which came from scrambling feet climbing over the wall. And there sounded further _thuds_ which came from those same feet as they thundered down upon the ledge.

At last the slowest sheep had joined s...o...b..ll. He still searched for the squeaky voice.

"This is queer!" s...o...b..ll murmured. "I don't see where that odd voice came from!"

He soon found out. For as he picked his way to the foot of the ledge, to nibble at the gra.s.s that grew down below, he saw peering out of a hole in the ground the face of a fat old gentleman whom he had sometimes met in the pasture.

This person's name was Uncle Jerry Chuck. And he looked terribly scared.

His teeth were chattering. His nose was twitching.

Somehow Uncle Jerry's fright seized s...o...b..ll, too. With a bleat of terror he turned and fled up the ledge, scurried over the wall, and ran back where he had just come from.

Like one sheep the whole flock turned tail and followed s...o...b..ll with frantic _baas_.

XIV

TEASING UNCLE JERRY

Farmer Green's flock of sheep had followed s...o...b..ll over the stone wall and back into the pasture. And soon every one of them was grazing again as if nothing had happened.

Now, s...o...b..ll was greatly pleased. It was the first time he had ever started that game called Follow My Leader. And there wasn't a sheep nor a lamb that hadn't gone chasing after him when he showed them the way.

s...o...b..ll saw many merry games ahead of him. "I'll give them some good runs!" he promised himself.

And he did. Before that morning was over he led the flock up to the furthest corner of the pasture in a mad scramble. And before the afternoon was over he took them on a brisk run to the bars.

That made three times for the day.

On each summer's day that followed s...o...b..ll played Follow My Leader oftener than he had the day before. So it happened that by the end of a week, when evening came, the older sheep were weary from all the running they had done, all the scrambling over the stone wall. For s...o...b..ll's favorite trick was to lead the sheep over the wall and into the tangle of raspberry bushes where Uncle Jerry Chuck lived.

s...o...b..ll had soon learned that there was nothing to fear over there. He discovered that it was the noise the flock made when leaping down upon the ledge that alarmed Uncle Jerry Chuck. Drowsing in his underground chamber Uncle Jerry had thought there must be an earthquake. That was why his teeth chattered. That was why his nose twitched, when he peeped out of his doorway.

As soon as s...o...b..ll learned all this he took great pains to land upon the ledge as heavily as he could. He liked to hear Uncle Jerry Chuck's teeth chatter; he liked to see Uncle Jerry s.h.i.+ver; he liked the sound of Uncle Jerry's squeaky voice asking what was the matter.

So s...o...b..ll enjoyed his days in the pasture--or _in and out_ of it. In fact he enjoyed them more than anybody else in the flock. For the others began to grow tired of being led helter-skelter in a headlong flight.

And the old folks especially became annoyed because s...o...b..ll took them so often over the stone wall.

At last the old dame known as "Aunt Nancy," all hung with great folds of thick fleece, spoke her mind plainly to s...o...b..ll himself.

"You're making a nuisance of yourself," she told him. "In all my days I never knew another youngster--a mere lamb!--to lead the flock. And here you're making us run our legs off every day! When I was your age we children never started a game of Follow My Leader. We _followed_ behind the rest of the flock. We never _led_."

All this was a great surprise for s...o...b..ll. "D-don't you like the game?"

he stammered.

"The game's all right," the old lady said. "But n.o.body cares to play it a dozen times a day. And n.o.body enjoys having to clamber over the stone wall again and again."

s...o...b..ll said nothing for a few minutes. He was thinking.

"When I run, why do you follow me if you don't wish to?" he inquired at last.

"I don't know," the old lady confessed. "Maybe I fell into the habit of following when I was young. Anyhow, I can't help myself now. I just have to go along with the others."

Poor lady!

XV

UNCLE JERRY OBJECTS