Wylie lived in Scotland, far up on the hills, and helped her master take care of his sheep.
Wylie watched over the sheep and the little lambs like a soldier, and never let anything hurt them. She drove them out to pasture when it was time, and brought them safely home when it was time for that. She loved her work, and was a wonderfully fine sheepdog.
At last her master grew too old to stay alone on the hills. Before he left, he gave Wylie to two kind young men who lived in the nearest town; he knew they would be good to her. They grew very fond of her, and so did their old grandmother and the little children; she was so gentle and handsome and well behaved.
But after a while, the family noticed something very strange indeed about their dog. Every single Tuesday night, about nine o'clock. Wylie disappeared. And she would be gone all night. But every Wednesday morning, she was at the door, waiting to be let in. Her silky coat was all sweaty and muddy and her feet heavy with weariness, but her bright eyes looked up at her masters as if she were trying to explain where she had been.
Week after week, the same thing happened. Nobody could imagine where Wylie went every Tuesday night. They tried to follow her to find out, but she always slipped away. It grew to be a real mystery. Where in the world did Wylie go?
In the city near the town where the kind young men lived was a big market. On Tuesday nights, the farmers used to come down from the hills, and drive their sheep through the city streets into the pens, ready to sell on Wednesday morning; that was the day they sold them. The sheep weren’t used to the city noises and sights, and they always grew afraid and wild, and gave the farmers and the sheepdogs a great deal of trouble. They broke away and ran about, in everybody’s way.
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But just as the trouble was worst, about sunrise, the farmers would see a little silky dog come running.
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One day, Wylie went to walk with her two masters.
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