e with wonder how they could follow and retain so long a story.
But John denied these creatures all intelligence; they were the constant
butt of his passion and contempt; it was just possible to work with the
like of them, he said,--not more than possible. And then he would expand
upon the subject of the really good dogs that he had known, and the one
really good dog that he had himself possessed. He had been offered forty
pounds for it; but a good collie was worth more than that, more than
anything, to a "herd"; he did the herd's work for him. "As for the like
of them!" he would cry, and scornfully indicate the scouring tails of
his assistants.

Once--I translate John's Lallan, for I cannot do it justice, being born
_Britannis in montibus_, indeed, but alas! _inerudito saeculo_--once, in
the days of his good dog, he had bought some sheep in Edinburgh, and on
the way out, the road being crowded, two were lost. This was a reproach
to John, and a slur upon the dog; and both were alive to their
misfortune. Word came, after some days, that a farmer about Braid had
found a pair of sheep; and thither went John and the dog to ask for
restitution. But the farmer was a hard man and stood upon his rights.
"How were they marked?" he asked; and since John had bought right and
left from many sellers, and had no notion of the marks--"Very well,"
said the farmer, "then it's only right that I should keep
them."--"Well," said John, "it's a fact that I canna tell the sheep; but
if my dog can, will ye let me have them?" The farmer was honest as well
as hard, and besides I daresay he had little fear of the ordeal; so he
had all the sheep upon his farm into one large park, and turned John's
dog into the midst. That hairy man of business knew his errand well; he
knew that John and he had bought two sheep and (to their shame) lost
them about Boroughmuirhead; he knew besides (the Lord knows how, unless
by listening) that they were come to Braid for their recovery; and
without pause or blunder singled out, first one and then the other, the
two waifs. It was that afternoon the forty pounds were offered and
refused. And the shepherd and his dog--what do I say? the true shepherd
and his man--set off together by Fairmilehead in jocund humour, and
"smiled to ither" all the way home, with the two recovered ones before
them. So far, so good; but intelligence may be abused. The dog, as he is
by little man's inferior in mind, is only by little his superi