CHAPTER IX
THE CURLYTOPS GO FISHING
“Oh, Ted! what shall we do?” asked Jan, as she looked at the sheep all around them. “They may knock us down and walk on us!”
“Oh, I guess they won’t do that. They don’t seem like bad sheep.”
So far the animals had been rather gentle, though they did crowd too closely around the children. They poked at them with their heads, and some, that had horns, seemed to want to try their sharp points on Trouble’s fat, chubby, bare legs.
“Go ’way—bad sheeps!” he called to them. But the sheep only went “Baa-a-a-a!”
“Oh, here comes an old ram!” called Jan.
“Yes, and he’s a big one,” announced Ted, and he looked about for a stick, a stone, or something he could throw at the ram if it should try to butt him, his sister or Trouble.
“Make sheeps go away!” begged Baby William, ready to cry.
“Shoo! Scat!” called Jan, shaking her skirts at the animals.
“That’s the way to drive chickens or a cat, but not sheep,” Ted told her.