A shepherd once went out to the hill to look after his sheep. It was misty and cold, and it was hard work finding them. At last he had them all but one. After much searching he found that one too, half drowned in a peat hag —a marshy hollow where he had cut peats from the moor to burn on his fire.
The shepherd took off his coat, bent down, took hold of the sheep's tail, and he pulled!
The sheep was heavy with water, and he could not lift her. So he took off his plaid, bent down, took hold of the sheep's tail, and he pulled!
But it was much for him. So he spit on his hands, bent down, took hold of the sheep's tail, and he PULLED!
And the tail broke!
If the tail had been stonger, this tale would have been longer.
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