ip through it."

"But by the end of two weeks I should think the sheep would have his
fleece all dirty again," objected Donald.

"That is just the point--he does."

"Why couldn't you wash the fleece after it is taken off?"

"We could. It is done sometimes. Your father can tell you that he sends
off wool and has it scoured before selling it if a buyer wishes it
done."

Mr. Clark nodded.

"But here," continued Sandy, "we wash no fleeces. We do take care,
though, not to tie very dirty pieces in with the fleece. My father
always insisted on the tying being honest. Only wool went into the
bundle. You and your father must watch and see how quickly they do the
tying."

As Sandy flitted away again Mr. Clark and Donald made their way to the
long table where the boys who went about among the shearers and
collected the fleeces were tossing them down.

Each fleece was spread out on the table, the belly and loose ends folded
deftly inside; then the whole was fastened into a square bundle.

"It would seem as if any twine would do to tie a package like that,
wouldn't it, Don?" said Mr. Clark.

"Of course."

"It is not so," went on his father. "There is nothing about which a
wool-grower has to be more careful than about the twine with which he
ties his fleeces. You must always avoid using a fiber twine--by that I
mean hemp, or any variety having fibers which will break off in the
wool. These fibers or particles get stuck in the fleeces, and later when
the wool reaches the mill, the mill people do not like it. Either the
bits of hemp have to be picked out--an endless job--or the wool is sent
back. You can see that they could not dye wool with all these little
particles in it. The hemp would take a different color from the rest of
the wool, and would result in specked goods."

"What kind of twine do we use, father?" asked Donald, much interested.

"We use a paper twine. Other growers often tie their fleeces with glazed
twine."

"I never should have thought twine could make so much trouble," mused
the lad.

"You would think of it, though, if you had once been set to picking
fiber out of wool as I was when I was a boy!" interrupted Sandy, as he
darted past.

Donald and his father followed at the heels of the young Scotchman as he
went through into another shed where the wool was being packed. Here lay
great piles of tied fleeces and heaps of loose wool. About the shed
stood wooden frames from the center of which swung