"I've seen goats up in the Bronx," murmured Carolyn May. "I've seen the--the herd of sheep in Central Park. But I guess there weren't any lambs with 'em. Oh, isn't he funny?" "He gits around almost as graceful as Ozy Littlefield, don't he?" laughed Molly Ball. "Here, Nebby!" "Why did you call him that awful name? Nebuchad--What is it?" "Nebuchadnezzar." "That's it," smiled the little girl, who loved the sound of long words even if she could not pronounce them. "Why did you?" "Because he eats grass," declared Molly I., enigmatically. "Oh!" Carolyn May gave her close attention to the lamb. She made Prince "lie down and be good" while she gathered a handful of juicy grass and approached Nebuchadnezzar, who was now nuzzling in Molly Ball's apron as she squatted down, and was letting her scratch his ears and "buttons." "See," said his mistress. "Those buttons will be horns some day. He's going to have funny little curly horns, and if he gets old enough he'll stamp his little hoofs when he is mad and will butt right into a stone wall." "Oh! He must have a temper almost as bad as Mr. Oly Littlefield's," murmured the astonished Carolyn. "Shouldn't wonder," agreed Molly. "Now, you pat him, Carolyn." "Won't he bite?" "No. Nor butt. Not yet," laughed the island girl. "And by and by when I salt 'em, you shall go with me and see our whole flock. Nebuchadnezzar was a late spring lamb and his mother died. He's a cosset." Carolyn's eyes grew big and she exclaimed emphatically: "Oh, Miss Molly! Why, that can't be so!" "What ain't so?" "What you just said. This Nebu--Nebu--Well, what-you-call-him, can't be a corset, for that's what ladies wear." "Oh, bless you!" laughed Molly I. "Nebby ain't that kind of a corset. He's a cosset lamb--brought up by hand. He was tagging me about the kitchen and milk-room for two months. It's only lately he's lived out of doors and I named him Nebuchadnezzar. I sartain sure was glad to see him take to eatin' grass the way he done. He's a right smart lamb." "Have you any more like him, Miss Molly?" asked the little girl. "Not just like him. All this year's lambs are pretty well grown but him. But they were like him when they were little. He looks all laigs an' wool now; but he'll be a goodly sized critter next winter." As she had been promised, Carolyn went late in the afternoon with Miss Molly Ball to salt the sheep in a rocky hollow which was out of sight of the house on the bluff. There were more than a score of the grey-brown creatures cropping the short grass and the tall weeds that grew between the rocks. "If our sheep pasture had many more rocks in it," complained Molly I., "we'd have to file the sheep's noses so't they could feed between the rocks." "Amos Bartlett tried _that_," cried Carolyn. "He's got _such_ a big nose, you know. But it only made his nose sore and bigger than ever."