e things Ted had to do with and understood
which Chevie's dog-experience did not reach to.

So Cheviott lay there and blinked his honest eyes in the sunshine, and
stared at Ted and wondered what he was after now! For Ted was in a very
tip-top state of delight! He sat down cross-legged on the grass, drew
the delicious big shears to him--they were heavy for him even to
pull--and uncorking the bottle of "fissy" oil, began operations.

"Zem _is_ sticked fast, to be soore," he said to himself, adopting
David's favourite expression, as he tugged and tugged in vain. "If thoo
could hold one side and Ted the other, they would soon come loosened,"
he observed to Cheviott. But Cheviott only growled faintly and blinked
at his master sleepily, and after a good deal more tugging Ted did
manage to open the shears, which indeed at last flew apart so sharply
that the boy toppled over with the shock, and rolled for a moment or two
on the grass, though happily not on the shears, before he recovered his
balance.

Laughing merrily, he pulled himself up again. Luckily the bottle had not
been overturned. Ted poured a drop or two carefully on to his fingers,
quite regardless of the fishy smell, and proceeded to anoint the
scissors. This he repeated several times, polishing them all over till
they shone, but not understanding that _the_ place where the oil was
needed was the hinge, he directed the best of his attention to the
general shininess.

Then he sat and looked at them admiringly.

"_Won't_ David be p'eased?" he said. "Zem's oilened all over now. Ted
must see if they don't sticken fast now."

With nearly as much difficulty as he had had to open them, Ted now
managed to shut them.

"Zem's better," thought the busy little man, "but Ted must see how they
cut."

He laid them flat on the grass, at a place where the blades had not been
completely sheared by the scythe. Tug number one--the oil had really
done some good, they opened more easily--tug number two, behold them
gaping--tug number three, they bite the grass, and Ted is just going to
shout in triumph when a quick shock of pain stabs through him. He had
been kneeling almost _on_ the shears, and their cruel jaws had snipped,
with the grass, the tender fleshy part of his poor little leg!

It was not the pain that frightened him so much as the feeling held fast
by the now dreadful scissors.

"David, David," he cried, "oh, please come. Nurse, please come. Ted has
cuttened hisse