Capìtolo 3

careering madly round some broad green meadow, their fat woolly backs
wobbling and jolting along in a compact mass of mild perplexity at
this sudden interruption of their never-ending meal, while Austin
scampered at their tails, as much excited with the sport as Don
Quixote himself when he dispersed the legions of Alifanfaron. Let
hare-coursers, otter-hunters, and pigeon-torturers blame him if they
choose; the exercise probably did the sheep a vast amount of good, and
Austin fully believed that they enjoyed it quite as much as he did.
Then suddenly a great calamity befell him. A weakness made itself
apparent in his right knee, accompanied by considerable pain. The
family doctor looked anxious and puzzled; a great surgeon was called
in, and the two shook their heads together in very portentous style.
It was a case of caries, they said, and Austin mustn't hunt sheep any
more. Soon he had to lie upon the sofa for several hours a day, and
what made Aunt Charlotte more anxious than anything else was that he