"No, uncle," she said, "but I have the prettiest little lambs you ever saw. They always run to me when they see me coming. Please come out to the lot and see them." "How many have you?" asked Uncle Robert. "Two," replied Susie. "They're twins, and are just alike. Their mother is dead. It was cold when they were born. There was snow on the ground. Father brought them into the kitchen in a basket to keep them warm. Mother and I taught them to drink milk, so father gave them to me. I'm going to keep them always." "Father likes us to have our own things to take care of," said Donald. "I think it's ever so much more fun, don't you, uncle?" "Yes, indeed," said Uncle Robert. "But you help take care of all the animals, don't you?" "Oh, yes," replied Donald, "and I like them all; but my calf seems just a little nicer than the rest. I know it isn't any better, really, but I like to think it is my very own." They stopped to watch the pigeons circling about the pigeon house. "I love to watch the pigeons," said Susie. "See all the pretty colors in their feathers!" [Illustration] "Are they very wild?" asked Uncle Robert. "Oh, no," said Susie, "they're very tame. When we throw grain to them they come down all around us." "Come and see my pigs!" shouted Donald, who had run ahead and was looking into the pen. Four white, fat Berkshire pigs lay in the straw, lazily rolling their little eyes toward their friend and feeder. A succession of grunts served for conversation. "I put in fresh straw every day," said Donald, "so my pigs can keep themselves clean. And they have a patent trough to eat out of." "I thought farmers in the West let their pigs run in the woods," said Uncle Robert. "We had a lot of razorbacks for a while, but they didn't pay," said Donald. "Our Berkshires make nice pork." "How warm the sun is getting!" said Uncle Robert as they turned away from the pigpen. "The wind is from the southwest," said Donald, looking at the weather vane on top of the barn. "It always gets warmer when the wind is from that direction." "Uncle," said Susie, "before we begin to plant the seeds let's go and see my lambs." "You go ahead, and I'll get some salt for the sheep," said Donald. "They always run to me when they see me coming with a pan. They know what that means." Donald soon joined them with the pan of salt. "Mother says she can't work in the garden until afternoon," he said, "so we needn't hurry back." As they entered the pasture the sheep were quietly grazing on the slope of the hill, where the grass was nibbled very short. A few lambs were frisking together at the foot of the hill. "See the lambs playing, uncle," said Susie. "The two little ones with long tails and black noses are mine. Aren't they cunning? They'll see me in a minute. Then how they will run!"