"Mr. Gladstone once paid a visit to a Tweedside country, and in the afternoon went out for a walk and came to a gate which gave upon the glen.  It was late in November, a snowstorm was threatening, and the sheep, as is their custom, were drawing out from the burnside to the barer hill where drifts could not lie. An old shepherd was leaning on the gate, and to him Mr. Gladstone spoke in his high manner. 'Are not sheep the most foolish of all animals?  Here is a storm pending, and instead of remaining in shelter they are courting the fury of the blast.  If I were a sheep I should remain in the hollows.'  To which the shepherd replied, 'Sir, if ye were a sheep ye'd have mair sense.'"
-Buchan.