plaid had got jammed in
the door, but he felt sure the evil spirit was holding him in its
clutches, and it was some time before his startled wife could convince
him that there was nothing there. The good woman gathered him up, and
soothed him; and as soon as he could speak he told her in a shivering
voice about the awful monster which had come to slay them all. He had
scarcely got out the word 'monster,' when there was a scurrying in the
chimney, and the monster presented himself before them, and calmly sat
down on the meal-barrel. 'It's just a puggy!' cried the shepherd's wife
(she had been to Inverness), and began to stroke Tricky on the back. As
she did so, she noticed that the creature had a strand of an old ship's
rope round its neck, and to this was attached a small piece of paper.
She opened it and read four words, scrawled in a hasty hand:--

'Won't Hang.
Won't Drown.'

The shepherd seemed more frightened than ever at this revelation. 'Won't
hang, won't drown,' he muttered. 'Then, we'll see if it won't _shoot_,'
and he reached over the fireplace for the gun which he killed the
rabbits with. As he loaded it it seemed to the shepherd's wife as if all
the powder and shot in the house was being poured into the barrel. She
pleaded with her husband to spare Tricky's life, and it almost looked as
if she had succeeded, for the shepherd lowered the gun from his shoulder
and stood for a moment as if in doubt. But it was not because of his
wife he stopped. It was partly because he was quite too shaky to aim
straight; and partly because he was too much of a sportsman to shoot
offhand a thing which was sitting quiet and still on his own
meal-barrel; but the main reason was that he was afraid to shoot the
baby, whose crib was just beside it. So he gave the meal-barrel a kick
with his foot to dislodge the monkey. He thought it would make for the
door, and there, in the open air, he would shoot it fair and square.

But the monkey had other views. What it wanted was something to eat; and
the children's porridge being handy, it put its paw in and began
breakfast. The shepherd was too much petrified to interfere, and it was
only when Tricky next spilt the milk-jug over the baby that he roused
himself to do his duty to his family. He raised the gun once more, and,
watching his chance when Tricky was exactly opposite the door, aimed
straight at its heart, and pulled the trigger. Now, the next moment that
monke