To Donald, however, everything was new. From morning to night he trotted after Sandy until one day the young Scotchman remarked with a mischievous smile: "You put me verra much in mind of one of my collies--I declare if you don't!" The boy chuckled. "It is all so different from anything I ever saw before, Sandy. I am finding out so many things! Why, until yesterday I thought sheep were just sheep--all of them the same kind. Father mentioned Merinos, and I supposed they were all Merinos." "Well! Well! And so you have found out that they are not all the same kind? How many kinds have you learned about, pray?" Donald took Sandy's banter in good part. "You needn't laugh, Sandy," he said. "Lots and lots of our sheep are Merinos, aren't they?" "Aye, laddie. Merinos are a good sheep for wool-growing. They are no so bonny--having a wrinkled skin and wool on their faces; they are small, too. But their coat is fine and long, and they are kindly. The American Merinos are the best range sheep we have, because they are so hardy and stay together so well. Some sheep scatter. It seems to be in their blood to wander about. Of course you can't take sheep like that on the range. They would be all over the state." "I should think it would be a great bother to cut the wool from a Merino when he is so wrinkly," suggested Donald thoughtfully. "You show your wit--it is a bother. It takes much longer to clip them than it does a smooth-skinned sheep. Besides, their fleece is heavy, for it contains a great deal of oil--or as we call it, yolk. But have done with Merinos. What others did you learn about?" "One of the herders told me about the Delaine Merinos and showed me the long parallel fibers in their wool; he also pointed out a French Merino, or--or--a----" "Rambouillet!" laughed Sandy. "I was waiting to hear you twist your tongue around that word. It took me full a week to learn to say it, and even now I never say it in a hurry. We have many a French Merino here; they belong, though, to quite a different family from the other Merinos. You will find them a much larger sheep, and their wool coarse fibered. They are great eaters, these French Merinos." "Like me!" cried Donald. "Verra like you!" agreed Sandy. "But it is no so easy filling them up. Why, they will eat a whole hillside in no time. They can beat you, too, on staying out in all sorts of weather. Here in Idaho we generally have fairly mild winters, so our sheep can be out all the year round. We have a few shacks down in the valley where we can shelter them if we have cold rains during the season. They feed down there along the river, eating sage-brush and dried hay from fall until spring. It is often scant picking, but if it is too scant we give them grain, alfalfa hay, or sometimes pumpkins." "Why, I never dreamed they stayed out all winter!" ejaculated Donald, opening his eyes.