SHEEP SCULPTURE 



the other man to hold and then stood back as a sculp- 

 tor might to view his work. He walked around her 

 and looked her over from every angle — occasionally 

 stepping up to trim some point to a more desired 

 shape. When she was finally done I half-expected 

 him to go over her with a piece of sandpaper, but 

 that was not necessary. The shears had left her 

 smooth enough. When the art work was completed 

 she looked exactly like the impossible sheep they 

 have at the shows and she seemed proud of the 

 change. She stood to have her picture taken just 

 like a belle who was dressed for some grand occa- 

 sion. Her nature seemed to undergo a transforma- 

 tion as well as her figure. I could not imagine her 

 romping and playing king of the castle with Strafe 

 and Clarissa. In fact, I doubt if her mother would 

 have known her when she was turned back into the 

 pasture if it were not that sheep know their off- 

 spring by the sense of smell. Everything was 

 changed about her except her characteristic odour. 

 She looked to be fully as big and much heavier than 

 her mother, who had recently been subjected to a 

 skin-tight shearing. As I looked her over I felt 

 that the time had come to add another stanza to the 

 many parodies of "Mary Had a Little Lamb": 



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