Every Wednesday, Hamish McBean ate his porridge, put on his kilt, and went to market. Every week, he set off with ten sheep to sell, and every week he came back with twenty.

"Hamish McBean, this has got to stop!" Mrs. McBean said. "We have too many sheep! There are sheep in the barn, sheep in the fields, sheep in the shed, and sheep on the porch!"

"I know," said Hamish McBean. "But when I get to the market and see their sad faces, I just have to bring them home."

"We have no money!" said Mrs. McBean, waving her wooden spoon.
"These sheep will have to go!"

Hamish McBean was very sad. He liked his sheep and they liked him. They had fields of green grass to eat, a bubbling stream to drink from, and leafy apple trees to lie beneath when the sun got too hot.

Hamish McBean went to his workshop to think. He picked up a piece of wood and turned it over in his hands.

Looking around, he saw bits of wood in all shapes and sizes. He saw pots of paint, jars of nails and screws, and bottles of polish and dye.

"I have an idea!" said Hamish McBean. "I will turn these scraps into things I can sell. Then I can keep my lovely sheep! I will make boxes and shelves, stools and tables, rocking horses, chairs, and ladles and cradles!"

All week he worked sawing wood, banging nails, sanding, gluing, and painting. When Wednesday dawned, Hamish McBean loaded his cart with colorful pieces and set off to market.

In the market square, he set out his tables, his ladles and cradles, his boxes and shelves, his stools and chairs, and his toys.

Soon a crowd of shoppers gathered.

"I must have this!" a woman said, waving a wooden ladle.

"I must have that!" a man declared, pointing to a rocking horse.

Happy shoppers bought piece after piece until Hamish McBean had nothing left to sell.

Mrs. McBean could not believe their luck! Her husband returned with an empty cart, a bag full of money, and enough orders to keep him busy for a year.

He soon put up a big sign that said: Hamish McBean, A Carpenter With Great Flair!

People came from far and wide to buy the things that he made. But Hamish McBean was not changed by fame and fortune. He was always happiest when he was with his sheep—either in the fields or by the bubbling stream or under the leafy apple trees when the sun got too hot.