"There will be three bagsful at the least," said the master, "and I will keep my promise and give one to the little boy in the lane. But, my goodness! how scraggly and poor the old ram looks. There is scarcely any wool on him at all. I think I must sell him to the butcher!" And, in truth, although the ram kicked and struggled and bleated with rage, they tied his legs and put him into the cart and carried him away to the butcher. And that was the last the sheep ever saw of him. But the Black Sheep ran up to the bars by the lane and waited with a glad heart till the little boy came. When he saw the sheep waiting for him he asked, "Black Sheep, Black Sheep, have you any wool?" And the sheep replied, "Yes my little master, three bags full!" "That is fine!" said the boy; "but who are the three bags for?" "One for my master, one for his dame, And one for the little boy that lives in the lane." "Thank you, Black Sheep," said the little boy; "you are very kind, and I shall always think of you when I wear my new coat." The next day the sheep were all sheared, and the Black Sheep's fleece made three big bagsful. The farmer kept his promise and carried one bag to the little boy that lived in the lane, and the wool was so soft and so heavy that there was enough not only for the new coat, but to make his mother a warm dress as well. The Black Sheep was very proud and happy when the mother and her little boy came down to the bars and showed the new clothes that had been made from the wool. "This pays me for all my trouble," said the Black Sheep, and the little boy reached his hand through the bars and patted her gently upon the head. Old King Cole Old King Cole Old King Cole was a merry old soul, And a merry old soul was he;