She was bent nearly
double by weight of many years, her hair was white as snow and her
eyes as black as coals. Deep wrinkles seamed her face and hands, while
her nose and chin were so pointed that they nearly met. She was not
pleasant to look upon, but Bo-Peep had learned to be polite to the
aged, so she answered, sweetly,
"Good morning, mother. Can I do anything for you?"
"No, dearie," returned the woman, in a cracked voice, "but I will sit
by your side and rest for a time."
The girl made room on the mound beside her, and the stranger sat down
and watched in silence the busy fingers sew up the seams of the new
frock she was making.
By and by the woman asked,
"Why do you come out here to sew?"
"Because I am a shepherdess," replied the girl.
"But where is your crook?"
"On the grass beside me."
"And where are your sheep?"
Bo-Peep looked up and could not see them.
"They must have strayed over the top of the hill," she said, "and I
will go and seek them."
"Do not be in a hurry," croaked the old woman; "they will return
presently without your troubling to find them."
"Do you think so?" asked Bo-Peep.
"Of course; do not the sheep know you?"
"Oh, yes; they know me every one."
"And do not you know the sheep?"
"I can call every one by name," said Bo-Peep, confidently; "for though
I am so young a shepherdess I am fond of my sheep and know all about
them.
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