These sheep were generally to be found waiting close to the gate, and when it was opened they could quite easily find their own way down to their feeding-ground.  As they passed slowly on, cropping the grass as they went, John was able to leave them and go home for his breakfast of porridge and milk.  Breakfast having been despatched, and Cheviot fed, he once more wrapped his shepherd’s plaid about him, remembering to put a book or two, and perhaps a piece of bannock, into the neuk of it, and set out to find his flock.  There was usually little difficulty in doing so, for the sheep knew the way and did not readily wander out of it; while, even if they had deviated a little from the direct route, no great harm would at this stage of their passage have resulted.  It was quite different when they came down to the lawns near the house.  These were surrounded by ornamental shrubbery, and it was to keep the sheep from invading this and the adjacent flower-borders that the services of the herd-boy were required.

What he had to do, then, after he had brought the sheep down, was to take his place on some knoll which commanded the ground where they were feeding, and keep an eye on them.  If nothing disturbed them they would feed quietly enough, and a long spell of reading might be quite safely indulged in.  If any of them showed signs of wandering out of bounds, a stroll in their direction, book in hand, would usually be quite sufficient, with or without Cheviot’s aid, to turn them.  And if a leading sheep were turned, the others would, sheep-like, follow the new lead thus imparted.  This was the usual state of things in fine weather.  In wet weather there were not the same possibilities of study, unless the feeding-ground happened to be in the neighbourhood of the old church, where sufficient shelter could be found for reading and the sheep could be watched through the open doorway.  About four o’clock—­in winter somewhat earlier—­it was time to take the sheep back to the fold-field, and then the parks had to be again looked, this time in the reverse order, the shepherd’s cottage being gained in time for supper.

After supper, John would go into Cockburnspath to recite the lessons he had prepared to Mr. M’Gregor.  The schoolmaster never prescribed any definite section to be learned; he left this to his pupil, in whose industry and interest in his work he had sufficient confidence.  He rarely bestowed any praise.  A grim smile of satisfaction, and sometimes a “Very well, sir,” were all that he would vouchsafe; but to others he would be less reticent, and once he was heard to say, “I have so far missed my own way, but John Cairns will flourish yet.”