oing down on their front knees before me, and
wagging their long tails furiously the moment the tea-pot was brought
out. They were far too sensible to do this if my hands were empty.
Gentle, affectionate little creatures, they used to be wonderfully
well-behaved, though now and then they would wander through the
verandah, and so into my bedroom, where the drapery of my dressing-table
afforded them endless amusement and occupation. They gnawed and sucked
all my "daisy" fringe, until the first thing that had to be done when
a lamb arrived at the house, was to take off muslins and fringes from
that, the only trimmed table in the house.

Often and often, of a cold night (for we must remember that New Zealand
lambing used always to come off in winter), we would all become suddenly
aware of a strong smell of burning pervading the whole house; which, on
being traced to its source, was often found to proceed from the rosette
of wool on the forehead of a chilly lamb. The creature drew nearer and
nearer to the genial warmth of the kitchen fire, until at last it used
to lean its brow pensively against the red hot bars. Hence arose the
powerful odour gradually filling the whole of the little wooden house.
Of course I used to rush to the rescue, and draw my bewildered pet away
from the fatal warmth, but not until it had usually singed the wool
off down to the bone, and there was often a bad burn on its forehead
as well. But still, in spite of stupidity and an insatiable appetite, I
always grieved very sincerely for each of my orphan lambs as it in turn
sank into its early grave. I used to be well laughed at for attaching
any sentiment to an animal which had sunk so disgracefully low in the
money-market as a New Zealand lamb, but the abundant supply of my little
pets never made it easier for me to lose the particular one which I had
set my heart on rearing. It certainly did afford me some comfort to hear
that merino lambs had always been difficult, if not impossible to
bring up, like so many "pups," by hand; and among all the statistics I
carefully collected, I could only find one well-authenticated instance
of a foundling having been reared indoors. My informant tried to comfort
me by tales of the tyranny that stout and tame sheep exercised over the
household which had sheltered it, but I fear that the stories of its
delightful impudence only made me more anxious to succeed in my own
baby-farming experiments among the lambs.

C