What a dreadful cut! Look, papa!' she cried out.
'Hadn't something better be bound round it?
How it bleeds! Does it pain much ?' 'Not a bit, miss!' said Jim, standing up like a schoolboy going to say his lesson.

'That is, it doesn't matter if it don't stop my shearing.' 'Tar!' sings out my next-door neighbour.

'Here, boy; tar wanted for No.
36.

That'll put it all right, Jim; it's only a scratch.' 'You mind your shearing, my man,' said Mr.Falkland quietly.

'I don't know whether Mr.M'Intyre will quite approve of that last sheep of yours.