never was ready; and somehow he contrived always to put me out of humour
before we began our day's work; and then all went wrong." Will led John
across a little wooden bridge that was near the farm, and after walking
three miles over the hills, they came to the place were the sheep were
penned. Another shepherd had been left with the dogs to guard them through
the night, who, immediately after giving up his charge, set off to bed.
After letting the sheep out to feed, and giving John all the necessary
instructions how to manage both them and the dogs, which, when
well-trained, are of the most singular importance to the shepherd, Will
asked John what he had brought with him to do all day? John very
innocently said, he never had thought of doing any thing, but watching the
sheep. "Watching the sheep!" cried Will, "that to be sure you must do;
but, if you take care to direct the dogs right, they will do that, without
giving you much trouble. It will never answer for you to have nothing but
that to employ yourself on. You must either bring a book with you, if you
can read well enough, or else you must learn to knit, or make a whistle;
or, in short, any thing but being idle. No herd of mine, that I care a
farthing for, shall ever be a lazy fellow if I can help it; so, if you can
keep a secret, I will tell you one. I have in my pocket some knitting
needles and some worsted, which I will lend you. Knitting is easily
learnt, and you may then help me to work some stockings for David Little,
that met with that ugly accident the other day. When he begins to go
about, he will want stockings to keep his poor broken leg warm. But you
need not speak of this down at the farm; mind that, or I shall never trust
you again with any of my secrets; it would spoil all the pleasure of my
present." John promised faithfully to be silent, as to the stockings; and,
having accepted the offer of being taught to knit, succeeded far better
than he had expected himself, as he was a willing boy. "Very well, John,"
said Will, "you will make a famous knitter in your time; and you will,
perhaps, thank Will Oliver all your life, for having taught you to be so