"That'll be fine," Richard approved. "There now, I think that will work. Have to be moving on, Sarah; you going to wait for me to come round again?"
"No, that isn't any fun," said Sarah with more frankness than politeness. "Guess I'll go out to the orchard."
"Don't go through the upper field," commanded Richard, gathering up the lines.
Sarah scrambled down from the fence and reached for Solomon's glossy black tail.
"Why not?" she asked suspiciously.
"Because Mr. Hildreth turned the old ram out to pasture there this morning, that's why," said Richard. "Here, what are you trying to do?"
Sarah had grasped a handful of the horse's tail and was pulling on it wildly. Old Solomon turned his head around and stared at her reproachfully.
"I want to get enough hairs to make a ring," explained Sarah. "The washwoman is going to show me how next time she comes, but she said I had to get the hair."
"How many do you think you need?" said Richard, laughing as he released the tail from the covetous clutch of the small fingers. "You won't want more than half a dozen as long as these; Solomon thought you meant to pull his tail out by the roots, didn't you, Boy?"
"I didn't mean to hurt him," apologized the somewhat abashed Sarah. "What's a ram?"