Chapter 1 - Page 2

Black Dwarf, or I am muckle mistaen--A' the warld tells tales about
him, but it's but daft nonsense after a'--I dinna believe a word o't
frae beginning to end."

"Your father believed it unco stievely, though," said the old man, to
whom the scepticism of his master gave obvious displeasure.

"Ay, very true, Bauldie, but that was in the time o' the
blackfaces--they believed a hantle queer things in thae days, that
naebody heeds since the lang sheep cam in."

"The mair's the pity, the mair's the pity," said the old man. "Your
father, and sae I have aften tell'd ye, maister, wad hae been sair vexed
to hae seen the auld peel-house wa's pu'd down to make park dykes; and
the bonny broomy knowe, where he liked sae weel to sit at e'en, wi' his
plaid about him, and look at the kye as they cam down the loaning, ill
wad he hae liked to hae seen that braw sunny knowe a' riven out wi' the
pleugh in the fashion it is at this day."

"Hout, Bauldie," replied the principal, "tak ye that dram the landlord's
offering ye, and never fash your head about the changes o' the warld,
sae lang as ye're blithe and bien yoursell."

"Wussing your health, sirs," said the shepherd; and having taken off his
glass, and observed the whisky was the right thing, he continued, "It's
no for the like o' us to be judging, to be sure; but it was a bonny
knowe that broomy knowe, and an unco braw shelter for the lambs in a
severe morning like this."

"Ay," said his patron, "but ye ken we maun hae turnips for the lang
sheep, billie, and muckle hard wark to get them, baith wi' the pleugh
and the howe; and that wad sort ill wi' sitting on the broomy knowe, and
cracking about Black Dwarfs, and siccan clavers, as was the gate lang
syne, when the short sheep were in the fashion."

"Aweel, aweel, maister," said the attendant, "short sheep had short
rents, I'm thinking."

Here my WORTHY AND LEARNED patron again interposed, and observed, "that
he could never perceive any material difference, in point of longitude,
between one sheep and another."

This occasioned a loud hoarse laugh on the part of the farmer, and an
astonished stare on the part of the shepherd.

"It's the woo', man,--it's the woo', and no the beasts themsells, that
makes them be ca'd lang or short. I believe if ye were to measure their
backs, the short sheep wad be rather the langer-bodied o' the twa; but
it's the woo' that pays the rent in thae days, and it had muckle need."

"Odd, Bauldie says very true,--short sheep did make short rents--my
father paid for our steading just threescore punds, and it stands