Bull, "the Scorpion has told me that some day, of
which I cannot be sure, he will sting me where my neck is set on my
shoulders, and that I shall die bellowing."

"What has that to do with this disgraceful exhibition?" said Leo,
standing on the dyke that bounded the wet field.

"Everything. This man could not plough without my help. He thinks that
I am a stray bullock."

"But he is a mud-crusted cottar with matted hair," insisted Leo. "We
are not meant for his use."

"You may not be; I am. I cannot tell when the Scorpion may choose to
sting me to death--perhaps before I have turned this furrow." The Bull
flung his bulk into the yoke, and the plough tore through the wet
ground behind him, and the countryman goaded him till his flanks were
red.

"Do you like this?" Leo called down the dripping furrows.

"No," said the Bull over his shoulder as he lifted his hind legs from
the clinging mud and cleared his nostrils.

Leo left him scornfully and passed to another country, where he found
his brother the Ram in the centre of a crowd of country people who
were hanging wreaths round his neck and feeding him on freshly plucked
green corn.

"This is terrible," said Leo. "Break up that crowd and come away, my
brother. Their hands are spoiling your fleece."

"I cannot," said the Ram. "The Archer told me that on some day of
which I had no knowledge, he would send a dart through me, and that I
should die in very great pain."

"What has that to do with this?" said Leo, but he did not speak as
confidently as before.

"Everything in the world," said the Ram. "These people never saw a
perfect sheep before. They think that I am a stray, and they will
carry me from place to place as a model to all their flocks."

"But they are greasy shepherds, we are not intended to amuse them,"
said Leo.

"You may not be; I am," said the Ram. "I cannot tell when the Archer
may choose to send his arrow at me--perhaps before the people a mile
down the road have seen me." The Ram lowered his head that a yokel
newly arrived might throw a wreath of wild garlic-leaves over it, and
waited patiently while the farmers tugged his fleece.

"Do you like this?" cried Leo over the shoulders of the crowd.

"No," said the Ram, as the dust of the trampling feet made him sneeze,
and he snuffed at the fodder piled before him.

Leo turned back, intending to retrace his steps to the Houses, but as
he was passing down a street he saw two small children, ve