er Hill, as he threw the rope over his
horns.

[Illustration: "Before they could run across the bridge, Old Bell Wether
walked up out of the creek and started for home"]

Old Bell Wether had to submit and be led back over the bridge to the
sheep-pen.

"You won't do that again, old boy," said John. "I'll be ready for you
this time."

The men took him out into the water again. Keeping his head up so that
he could breathe, they washed his long wool until it was quite clean.

Then they led him out of the water, into another sheep-pen, which had
been built to hold the sheep after they were washed.

After all the sheep had been washed clean and white, they were started
home again. When they were part way home, they met another flock of
sheep coming down the road.

"Drive ours up next to the fence," said Farmer Hill, "so they will not
get mixed with that flock."

So they were driven up by the fence and kept there until the other flock
had passed on their way to be washed.

Bobby rode with Father in the buggy the rest of the way.

"How do they get the wool off the sheep?" he asked.

"That," said Father, "will be something more for you to see, another
time. You won't have to wait many days."

Bobby had a great story to tell Mother and Sue that night.

[Illustration: THE SHEEP SHEARING]

V

A few days after the sheep had been washed at the creek, a strange man
named Mr. Price came to Cloverfield Farm one morning.

"If you want to see something interesting," said Father to Bobby, "you
may come along with us."

They all went down to the Old Red Barn, and Bobby noticed that the flock
of sheep had been driven into the basement.

On the basement floor, near the gate which shut the sheep in their pen,
they put down a platform of boards, about six feet square.

Then Mr. Price took several strange-looking things out of his bag.

"What is that?" asked Bobby, pointing to one of them.

"That is a pair of shears," said Mr. Price.

"They do not look like my Mother's shears," said Bobby.

"No, they don't," said Mr. Price. "But these are sheep-shears."

"Oh, I know," shouted Bobby, jumping up and down; "you are going to
shear the sheep."

"Right, my boy," said the man. "Now keep your eyes open."

"You had better look out for Old Bell Wether," said Bobby. "He'll bunt
you over, as he did John down at the creek."

"I've sheared thousands of sheep in my time," said Mr. Price, "and no
sheep ever bunted me o