And sing all day to please my sheep,
And never lose them like Bo-Peep,
Becos the ways of them are known to me."

"When winter comes and winds do blow,
Unto my sheep so good I go--
I'm always good to them, d'ye see--
Ho, sheep, say I, both ram, both ewe,
I've sung you songs all summer through,
Now lend to me a skin or two,
To keep the cold and wet from out o' me."


This song, accompanied with loud raps on the table, was bellowed
forth in a dreadfully discordant voice; and very soon all the dogs
rushed into the room and began to bark and howl most dismally, which
seemed to please the old man greatly, for to him it was a kind of
applause. But the noise was too much for Martin; so he stopped up
his ears, and only removed his fingers from them when the
performance was over. After the song the old man offered to dance,
for he had not yet had amusement enough.

"Boy, can you play on this?" he shouted, holding up a frying-pan and
a big stick to beat it with. Of course Martin could play on _that_
instrument: he had often enough played on one like it to startle the
echoes on the lake, in other days. And so, when he had been lifted
on to the table, he took the frying-pan by the handle, and began
vigorously beating on it with the stick. He did not mind the noise
now since he was helping to make it. Meanwhile old Jacob began
flinging his arms and legs about in all directions, looking like a