As Snowball grew older he began to enjoy a fine, new sport. At least this sport was new to him. All the old rams had enjoyed it for years. But it was not until Snowball's horns began to grow that he became interested in having fun in this way.

The new sport was butting. Snowball was careful not to butt any sheep that were much bigger than he was. For instance, he never even threatened to butt the black lamb, who was some months the older of the two. And Snowball didn't butt Johnnie Green; for Snowball was fond of him.

Snowball didn't feel the same toward other boys. Other boys liked to tease him. A neighbor's boy called "Red" was the biggest tease of them all. He never missed a chance to bother Snowball—unless Johnnie Green objected.

So it was only to be expected that Snowball should want to butt Red. More than once he had stolen up behind Red and butted him as hard as he could butt.

At first Red only laughed. But as Snowball grew bigger—and heavier—Red no longer found anything to laugh at in Snowball's favorite sport. Instead of laughing, Red was more likely to go to rubbing himself where Snowball had struck him.

"You'll have to get rid of this pet of yours!" Red said to Johnnie Green. "That is, you'll have to if you expect me to come to your place any longer."

"I won't get rid of Snowball," Johnnie Green declared. "It serves you right if he butts you. You've teased him too often. I don't blame Snowball at all."

"Send him away, now; or I'll go home," Red threatened.

At that Johnnie Green drove Snowball behind the barn. But he wouldn't stay there. He came trotting back to the farmyard in no time.

"Leave him alone! Don't pay any attention to him and he won't touch you!" Johnnie advised Red.

However, that young man was uneasy. But he said nothing more about the matter. And turning to the swing under the big old apple tree he cried, "Come on, Johnnie! I'll swing you."

Now, Johnnie Green had swung in that swing thousands of times. But it wasn't often anybody was willing to stand and push him until he went up, up, up, high among the leafy branches.

"All right!" he said. "None of your tricks, now!"

Red only grinned. And he began pushing Johnnie. He pushed so hard that for once Johnnie was satisfied. Once he thought the swing seat—with him on it—was going to turn completely over.

The whole thing was most strange. It was most unusual. Red was always ready to be swung. Never had he been willing, before, to swing anybody else. So Johnnie decided to enjoy the fun while he could. Back and forth he rode in long sweeps.

Meanwhile Snowball kept edging nearer. He was behind Red. And all the time Red kept a careful eye on him. But of this Johnnie Green saw nothing. For of course his back was turned to Red and to Snowball, too.

There was no doubt that Snowball wanted to take a hand in the sport—or perhaps it would be better to say take a horn. Anyhow he lowered his head now and then, and shook it. And at last he stamped upon the ground.

"Hang tight, Johnnie!" Red cried. "Here comes the biggest push of all!" And he gave Johnnie a mighty shove.

Then Red waved his tattered hat almost in Snowball's face.

That was a deadly insult. At least so Snowball thought. He gathered his legs beneath him. He shot forward.

Already Johnnie Green had begun his long backward swing.

For a moment you would have thought Red was going to get caught in a tight place. Johnnie Green was almost upon him. Snowball was almost upon him.

And then Red jumped.