How do ye think a face like yours will look between a pair o' wings in the next warld ?' I ken I'm no bonny," added the explanatory Jock; "but ye canna expect a man to thole siccan language as that." Lewis laughed and, being engaged in clipping his third sheep, forgot the delicacy of his task and let the shears slip.

A very ugly little cut on the animal's neck was the result.
"Oh, confound it!" cried the penitent amateur.

"Look what I've done, Yed.

I'll have to rub in some of that stuff of yours and sew on a bandage.

The files will kill the poor thing if we leave the cut bare in this infernal heat." The old shepherd nodded, and pointed to where the remedies were kept.
Jock went for the box, which contained, besides the ointment, some rolls of stout linen and a huge needle and twine.