the
little busy bee, she had "improved each shining hour," he never would
have done it. Seems to me, she brought the trouble on her own head.

First, Leon ran at the Shropshire and then jumped aside; but soon it
grew so strong and quick he couldn't manage that, so he put his hat on
a stick and poked it back and forth through a fence crack, and that
made the ram raving mad. At last it would butt the fence until it
would knock itself down, and if he dangled the hat again, get right up
and do it over. Father never caught Leon, so he couldn't understand
what made the sheep so dreadfully cross, because he had thought it was
quite peaceable when he bought it. The first time it got after Polly,
she threw her shawl over its head, pulled up her skirts, and Leon said
she hit just eleven high places crossing an eighty-acre field; she came
to the house crying, and father had to go after her shawl, and mother
gave her a roll of butter and a cherry pie to comfort her.

The Shropshire never really got Polly, but any one could easily see
what it would do to me if I dared step around that stump, and it was
dancing and panting to begin. If whoever wrote that "Gentle Sheep,
pray tell me why," piece ever had seen a sheep acting like that, it
wouldn't have been in the books; at least I think it wouldn't, but one
can't be sure. He proved that he didn't know much about anything
outdoors or he wouldn't have said that sheep were "eating grass and
daisies white, from the morning till the night," when daisies are
bitter as gall.

Flop! went the fish, and its tail touched the edge of the hole. Then I
turned around and picked up the pole. I put my sunbonnet over the big
end of it, and poked it at the ram, and drew it back as Leon did his
hat. One more jump and mother's fish would be gone. I stood on the
roots and waved my bonnet. The sheep lowered its head and came at it
with a rush. I drew back the pole, and the sheep's forefeet slid over
the edge, and it braced and began to work to keep from going in. The
fish gave a big flop and went down the hole. Then I turned Crusader
and began to fight, and I didn't care if I were whipped black and blue,
I meant to finish that old black-faced Shropshire. I set the pole on
the back of its neck and pushed with all my might, and I got it in,
too. My, but it made a splash! It wasn't much good at swimming
either, and it had no chance, for I stood on the roots and pushed it
down, and hit it ove