THIS WAY TO THE CORNER
I don’t know who put up the sign-board, Little One. Since Buddie told me her story I have been over the swamp road, but I saw nothing of a sign-board, although everything else was as she described it, even to the very tall Christmas tree that stood just where the two roads came together.
The hand on the sign-board pointed up the right road, and Buddie was reminded of the Rabbit’s directions for putting back the Guinea-Pig’s eyes: whichever one you choose first is right. But after she had walked another long way the Corner seemed as far off as ever. As the road was perfectly straight she could see ahead for a long distance, and there was no sign of anything that looked like a corner.
“I don’t believe I should know it if I came to it,” she thought. The Rabbit had not explained what sort of corner it was.
Was that something moving up the road? Yes, it was; and it was coming her way.
“Why, it’s a lamb!” she cried, when it drew nearer. “But is it a lamb? It’s black, and lambs are white.”
But it was a lamb, nevertheless, and a remarkably self-possessed and easy-going lamb, too; not the sort that runs about bleating, scared out of its wits.
“I’m very well, thank you,” said the Lamb, before Buddie had a chance to ask, “How do you do?”