Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1889-03-14
" SHEEP JIGGERs."
Awful Wreck of a Mans Mind
Caused by Counting Sheep

"What's the matter with your friend
asked reporter of young man with q
broad white hat, corduroy trousers and
wooden shirt, who was trying to induce
his companion, similarly clad, to move
on.
He's got the sheep jiggers.
"The sheep iiggersl What is thatF
demanded the questioner.
"Why, ye see, in our business we
have to count our sheep twice day
mornin' and night. Joe, here-Sheep-
herder Joe, he's called up in the Pine
Country-hes been tendin' bunch OF
nigh onto six thousand sheep, and 1T
has purity near druv him clean daft n
countin' of EN- so much. He scarcely
gets time for anything else. Very often
sheep-herder gifts off his cabasar on
this account, and that's why we col 1t
the sheep jiggers. Jist We watch him IA
minute. Ye see, he's got ten little
pebbles or iiggers in his right hand.
Now, he'll Grant from one up to hun
dred, and then he'll pass one of them
iiggers into his left hand. When he
gifts all of the iiggers into his left hand
that will make one thousand, and he'll
cut notch in the rim of his hat or his
boot heels. Didn't We never notice the
notches cut in the rim of sheep buck
aroo's hat2 That's what it means.
When Joe gifts Al thousand counted he
counts another thousand and passes the
iiggers back into his right hand, and
keeps on that way, back and forth, all
day, if we let him"
Here the unfortunate young man took
off his hat, cut a neat notch in the brim
with his iack-lnife, put it back on his
head, and resumed counting.
"Poor Joel !" said his companion.
eve broughten him down here, thinkin'
the life and hustle of the city might help
him, but it's no use. He jist stands like
We see him all dry long and counts peo-
pie for sheep, just the same as if he was
on the Madeline plains. What's that
Did | ever have the iiggers! Well, yes;
onct. / was out i'll the foothills of the
Siskiyou range worl1n' for Dan Wheeler,
and had so much trouble with coyotes
and underbruh that used to count my
bunch of sheep three times day. /
didn't hav9 no time for anything else,
and it mighty near took me off my base.
touiA o'1 0uNlp u-luihlilS ONti liic
bars night and day, and could hear their
eternal blat ringin' in my head like
Boulanger's march in hand organ. L
couldn't do nothin' but count, count,
count, and when / got through L could
MT tell how much it came to. Every
thing looked like sheep. Tho beans
looked like little sheep and the hills
looked like big sheep. The tin cups and
the fryin' pan looked like sheep. NY
Dutch oven looked like fat sheep, and |
the knives and forks looked like lean
sheep. The clouds and the stars looked |
like sheep, and the moon stood over me |
at night like big bellwcther and made |
me count him million times, until my |
head fairly cracked. 1t was sheep, |
sheep everywhere, and no relief Oh, it |
was awful !" and the young man, with |
closed eyes, pressed his hand to his
brow and groaned as he re-
called that dreadful experience.
Wheg the reporter left, poor Joe was
still standing in the same place counting
The people rs they passed, and changing
ihe ''jiggers" from one hand to the
)ther San Francisco Examiner.