As far as could be learnt it appeared that the poor young dog,
still under the impression that since he was kept for running after
sheep, the more he ran after them the better, had at the end of his meal
off the dead lamb, which may have given him additional energy and
spirits, collected all the ewes into a corner, driven the timid
creatures through the hedge, across the upper field, and by main force
of worrying had given them momentum enough to break down a portion of
the rotten railing, and so hurled them over the edge.
[The dog]
had done his work so thoroughly that he was considered too good a
workman to live, and was, in fact, taken and tragically shot at twelve
o'clock that same day -- another instance of the untoward fate which so
often attends dogs and other philosophers who follow out a train of
reasoning to its logical conclusion, and attempt perfectly consistent
conduct in a world made up so largely of compromise.
[From Far From the Madding Crowd by Thomas Hardy]
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