Snowball knew that the sheep he saw before him must be his old companions. But they were so changed, by shearing, that he couldn't tell who was who.
He stood still and stared at them and grinned.
"What amuses you, young man?" one of them asked him in a tart voice. The speaker was a big old dame. Even with her fleece closely cropped she looked undeniably fat. Yet she was wrinkled, too. And her neck had a scrawny look.
Not until she spoke did Snowball guess that this person was Aunt Nancy Ewe. The moment he heard her voice he knew her. And he couldn't help laughing right in her face.
"Don't be rude, young man!" Aunt Nancy scolded. "Anybody would think you had never seen a sheared flock before."
"I haven't," Snowball answered. "You're all so funny that I can't keep my face straight."
"Well," she said, "you'll have a chance to laugh at yourself a little later. For you'll certainly be sheared too."
Snowball turned sober instantly.
"Oh! Do you think so?" he cried.
"They'll never let you keep that fleece on all summer," Aunt Nancy declared.