[_And so on. The first Shepherd disrobes his sheep, and dismisses it with a disrespectful spank. After which he proceeds to refresh himself from a brown jar, and hands it to his comrades. The spectators look on with deeper interest, and discuss the chances of the liquid being beer, cider, or cold tea, as the scene closes._ [Illustration] CATCHING THE EARLY BOAT. _In Bed; At the Highland Hotel, Oban._ What an extraordinary thing is the mechanism of the human mind! Went to sleep last night impressed with vital importance of waking at six, to catch early steamer to Gairloch. And here I am--broad awake--at exactly 5.55! Is it automatic action, or what? Like setting clockwork for explosive machine. When the time comes, I blow up--I mean, _get_ up. Think out this simile--rather a good one.... Need not have been so particular in telling Boots to call me, after all. Shall I get up _before_ he comes? He'll be rather surprised when he knocks at the door, and hears me singing inside like a lark. But, on reflection, isn't it rather _petty_ to wish to astonish an hotel Boots? And why on earth should I get up myself, when I've tipped another fellow to get me up? But suppose he forgets to call me. I've no right, as yet, to _assume_ that he will. To get up now would argue want of confidence in him--might hurt his feelings. I will give him another five minutes, poor fellow.... _Getting up._--No actual necessity to get up yet, but, to make assurance doubly--something or other, forget what--I will ... I do. Portmanteau rather refractory; retreats under bed--quite ten minutes before I can coax it out.... When I have, it won't let me pack it. That's the worst of this breed of brown portmanteaus--they're always nasty-tempered. However, I am getting a few things into it now, by degrees. Very annoying--as fast as I put them in, this confounded portmanteau shoots them out again! If I've put in that pair of red and white striped pyjamas once, I've done it twenty times--and they always come twisting and rolling out of the back, somehow. Fortunate I left myself ample time. Man next door to me is running it rather fine. _He_ has to catch the boat, too, and he's not up yet! Hear the Boots hammering away at his door. How _can_ a fellow, just for the sake of a few more minutes in bed--which he won't even know he's _had_!--go and risk losing his steamer in that way? I'll do him a good turn--knock at the wall myself. "Hi! get up, you lazy beggar. Look sharp--you'll be late!" He thanks me, in a muffled tone, through the wall. He is a remarkably quick dresser, he tells me--it won't take him thirty-five seconds to pack, dress, pay his bill, and get on board. If that's the case, I don't see why _I_ should hurry. I've got much more than that _already_.