ails as were given
to them, and when you are older you will know that it did not matter in
the least what kind of tail you wore when you were little." She might
have told him something else, but she didn't.

The Lamb didn't dare to boast of his tail after this, but when he passed
the others, he would look at his mother, and if he thought she wouldn't
see, he would wiggle it at them. Of course that was just as bad as
talking about it, and the other Lambs knew perfectly well what he meant;
still, they pretended not to understand.

One morning, when his mother's back was turned, he was surprised to see
that she had only a short and stumpy tail. He had been thinking so much
of his own that he had not noticed hers. "Mother," he cried, "why didn't
you have a long tail too?"

"I did have once," she answered with a sheepish smile.

"Did it get broken?" he asked in a faint little voice. He was thinking
how dreadful it would be if he should break his.

"Not exactly," said his mother. "I will tell you all about it. All
little Lambs have long tails----"

"Not so long as mine, though," said he, interrupting.

"No, not so long as yours," she replied, "but so long that if they were
left that way always they would make a great deal of trouble. As the
wool grows on them, they would catch burrs and sharp, prickly things,
which would pull the wool and sting the skin. The farmer knows this, so
when the little Lambs are about as old as you are now, he and his men
make their tails shorter."

"Oh!" cried the Lamb, curling his tail in as far between his legs as he
could, "do you mean that they will shorten my tail, my beautiful long
tail?"

"That is just what I mean," said his mother, "and you should be very
glad of it. When that is done, you will be ready to go out into the
field with me. A lot of trouble we should have if the men did not look
after such things for us; but that is what men are for, they say,--to
look after us Sheep."

"But won't they laugh at me when my tail is shorter?" asked her son.

"They would laugh at you if you wore it long. No Lamb who pretends to be
anybody would be seen in the pasture with a dangling tail. Only wild
Sheep wear them long, poor things!"

Now the little Lamb wished that he had not boasted so much. Now, when
the others passed him, he did not put on airs. Now he wondered why they
couldn't have short tails in the beginning. He asked his uncle, an old
Wether Sheep, why this was and his uncle