'I don't care,' moaned Sephie, 'they're not having my wool again and that's that!'
'People need it for the winter,' the other sheep reasoned, but Sephie refused to
listen.

'Let them try walking about stark naked,' she argued, 'see how they'd like it.'
'Where will you hide when the sheep Shearer's come?' the other sheep asked.
'In that hedge over there, but don't go bleating on about it - please.'

They promised not to and watched Sephie run off into the hedge where she
fell into a deep sleep. She woke up again just as the sheep Shearer's were
leaving with their load of wool.

Sephie rolled out of the hedge and strolled over to join her friends.

'A waistcoat and trousers suit you,' laughed one.

'What do you mean?' asked Sephie.

'See for yourself, clever.'

Sephie looked round at herself: all the wool which normally covered her middle
had completely vanished...

The man whose job it was to clip the hedges wondered why he had sheep's wool clogging up his electric cutters, but it didn't bother him, he was much too busy.

by Sylvia Crèche

Author of the Mervyn Mouse Books