“I want a warm plaid dress,” said a little girl. “The days are colder, and the frost will soon be here. But how can I get it? Mother says that she cannot buy one for me.”

The old white sheep in the meadow heard her, and he bleated to the shepherd, “The little girl wants a warm plaid dress. I will give my wool. Who else will help?”

The kind shepherd said, “I will.” Then he led the old white sheep to the brook and washed its wool. When it was clean and white, he said, “The little girl wants a warm plaid dress. The sheep has given his wool, and I have washed it clean and white. Who else will help?”

“We will,” said the shearers. “We will bring our shears and cut off the wool.”

The shearers cut the soft wool from the old sheep, and then they called, “The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed it; and we have sheared it. Who else will help?”

“We will,” cried the carders. “We will comb it out straight and smooth.”

Soon they held up the wool, carded straight and smooth, and they cried, “The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it, and we have carded it. Who else will help?”

“We will,” said the spinners. “We will spin it into thread.”

“Whirr, whirr!” How fast the spinning wheels turned, singing all the time.

Soon the spinners said, “The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it. The carders have carded it, and we have spun it into thread. Who else will help?”

“We will,” said the dyers. “We will dye it with beautiful colors.”

Then they dipped the woven threads into bright dye, red and blue and green and brown.

As they spread the wool out to dry, the dyers called: “The little girl wants a new dress. The sheep has given his wool. The shepherd has washed the wool. The shearers have cut it. The carders have carded it. The spinners have spun it, and we have dyed it with bright beautiful colors. Who else will help?”

“We will,” said the weavers. “We will make it into cloth.”

“Clickety-clack! clickety-clack!” went the loom, as the colored thread was woven over and under over and under. Before long it was made into beautiful plaid cloth.

Then the little girl’s mother cut and made the dress. It was a beautiful plaid dress, and the little girl loved to wear it. Every time she put it on, she thought of her friends who had helped her, the sheep, the shearers, the carders, the spinners, the dyers, the weavers, and her own dear mother.