ed Grandma Bell. "The old ram has seen
her red coat and doesn't like it! I must get her away."

"I'll help!" cried Mother Bunker. Meanwhile they were both running toward
Margy, where she stood with her back turned toward the ram, picking
flowers.

"You had better leave the old ram to me. I know how to drive him off,"
said Grandma Bell. "You take the children, Amy, and get on the other side
of the fence. It isn't far," and she pointed to the fence ahead of them.

"Won't the ram hurt you?" asked Rose, who had taken Mun Bun and Violet by
their hands to lead them along.

"No, I'm not afraid of him," said Grandma Bell. "I've seen him before. You
see he's like a bull--or a turkey gobbler--they don't any of 'em like the
sight of red colors. Run, children! Amy, you look after them," she said to
Mrs. Bunker. "I'll get Margy."

Mrs. Bunker knew that Grandma Bell knew a lot about farm animals. So,
calling to Violet, Mun Bun and Rose, and seeing that Russ and Laddie were
on the way to the fence, Mrs. Bunker followed the two boys.

"I could throw stones at the ram," said Russ.

"So could I," added his brother. "Let's go do it!"

"No. You do as grandma told you, and get on the other side of the fence,"
said his mother. "Grandma Bell can take care of the ram."

The ram, which had big, curving horns, walked toward Margy, now and then
stopping to stamp his foot or give a loud:

"Baa-a-a-a!"

"What's he saying?" asked Vi.

"Never mind what he's saying," said Mrs. Bunker. "Run! Don't stop to ask
questions."

"I guess the ram's saying he doesn't like red coats," put in Russ.

They were soon at the fence and out of any danger from the ram. Grandma
Bell was now close to Margy, who had stopped picking flowers, and was
looking at the animal with his shaggy coat of wool and his big, curved
horns.

"Come to me, Margy!" cried her grandmother, and Margy ran, and was soon
clasped in Mrs. Bell's arms.

"Baa-a-a-a!" bleated the old ram, again stamping his foot, as he shook his
lowered head.

"Oh, he's going to bunk right into Grandma Bell!" cried Laddie, on the
safe side of the fence.

"I'll go back and help her drive the ram off," said Mother Bunker. "You
children stay here."

"Will the old ram-sheep come and get us?" asked Vi.

"No, he can't get through the fence," her mother answered after a look
around. "Don't be afraid."

By this time Margy's grandmother had caught the little girl up in her
arms, and was walking away