conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Mrs, Robin, Dinky with the genre: Children's Books?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'The Enchanted Egg'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the first five paragraphs for this book
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Enchanted Egg
  An egg is full of possibilities. Especially an enchanted one. The tiniest egg can hold the most fearsome dragon. The biggest egg, the shiest sea serpent.
  What was inside the giant spotted egg at the Agency was a total mystery. Clover knew it couldn't be a dragon. Mr. Jams, who ran the Agency, had said so. And he knew lots about dragon eggs. It couldn't be a sea serpent either. Sea serpents make sloshing noises inside their shells. The egg was too large to be a fire salamander's and too golden for a griffin's. And phoenixes don't even hatch from eggs. They rise from their ashes.
  It was another hot summer morning as Clover skipped up Dragon's Tail Lane, toward the Agency. From the outside, the low wooden building didn't look special at all, with its crooked chimney, vine-covered walls, and thatched roof. But inside was another thing altogether. From its sign reading NO ANIMAL IS TOO UNUSUAL TO ADOPT, to the big gilt Wish Book, to the animals themselves—fire salamanders, fairy horses, unicorns, and other magical creatures—the Agency was a remarkable place.
  You never knew what might happen in a day. Clover had only been volunteering there since the beginning of summer vacation, three weeks ago, and already she had adopted out a unicorn and a dragon and rescued a little kitten from a nasty witch. New homes found, friends made, and hearts healed—that was the Agency. And now there was the egg, which wasn't up for adoption yet, of course, but the animal that hatched from it would be, as soon as it was old enough.
  Clover hurried through the gate. "Morning," she said to the garden gnome who stood beside it. Although he looked like a lawn ornament, he was actually alive. He guarded the Agency at night and slept through the day. In fact, Clover realized he was asleep now, so she was careful not to bang the gate shut behind her.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: five more paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: She turned to see that the blizzard-beam kitten had caused frost to inch up the table leg, across the tabletop, and right to the salamanders' tank. The cold had caused the hot glass to crack.
  Lightning tail was staring at his reflection in an empty tank. A spark from his tail bounced off the glass, rebounded, and hit him in the nose, making him howl.
  Her green kitten had slipped out from under a table and was padding toward the playing kittens. He was clearly fascinated by them. His tail was twitching furiously. His ears too. Even his whiskers seemed alert.
  Clover seized the opportunity, ignoring her smarting hand, and scooped up the sleeping kittens one at a time, putting them in the cage. Then she fastened the door. Since she figured they must have been able to lift the simple latch, she hurried to the storage room to find a lock.
  Clover left him with the kittens to find a bandage for her hand, then checked the salamanders again—no heat was escaping from the crack in their tank, so she knew it was okay—and she checked the fairy horses as well, to make sure they weren't too startled. Some seemed extra rambunctious—Hickory was prancing around and around the tiny ferns—and Tansy, the gentlest, was trembling. Clover reached in and smoothed her miniature mane for a while to quiet the horse down. Then she cleaned up the feathers and put them away in the stables.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Reverse the sentences.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Then she cleaned up the feathers and put them away in the stables.. Clover reached in and smoothed her miniature mane for a while to quiet the horse down. Some seemed extra rambunctious—Hickory was prancing around and around the tiny ferns—and Tansy, the gentlest, was trembling.
  Clover left him with the kittens to find a bandage for her hand, then checked the salamanders again—no heat was escaping from the crack in their tank, so she knew it was okay—and she checked the fairy horses as well, to make sure they weren't too startled. Since she figured they must have been able to lift the simple latch, she hurried to the storage room to find a lock. Then she fastened the door.
  Clover seized the opportunity, ignoring her smarting hand, and scooped up the sleeping kittens one at a time, putting them in the cage. Even his whiskers seemed alert. His ears too. His tail was twitching furiously. He was clearly fascinated by them.
  Her green kitten had slipped out from under a table and was padding toward the playing kittens. A spark from his tail bounced off the glass, rebounded, and hit him in the nose, making him howl.
  Lightning tail was staring at his reflection in an empty tank. The cold had caused the hot glass to crack.She turned to see that the blizzard-beam kitten had caused frost to inch up the table leg, across the tabletop, and right to the salamanders' tank
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: the last five paragraphs
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: At last the polish was ready. With a rag and the bowl of paste in hand, Clover headed out of the tack room to begin the actual work.
  However, polishing the first unicorn's horn proved impossible! Plum (or Sugar-plumsy-Wumsy, as he had been named by the princess who'd owned him) wouldn't lie down or stay still, and he kept trying to eat the rag. So instead of polishing his horn, Clover filled up his bucket with a generous helping of hearty oats and moved on to Sunny's stall.
  Trying to polish Sunny's horn was impossible too. Sunny (or Smoochie-Coochie Sunshine) was an especially small unicorn with long eyelashes. Supposedly the princess who had owned him had tried curling them and poked one of Sunny's eyes. The minute Clover brought the rag up to Sunny's horn, his left eye began to fill with tears. Whether it was from some stardust that got into it or out of fear, she didn't know. But she couldn't possibly polish his horn if it upset him so.
  Tootsie (or Tootise-Wootsie Wugums) was triple trouble! Her horn was ticklish, and every time Clover touched it with the rag, Tootsie shook it. On the third try, the horn missed Clover by inches, and she jumped back just in time. The bowl of polish slipped from her hands and landed upside down on the stall floor in a sparkly, gucky mess.
  She scooped up as much of the polish as she could and set the bowl down outside the stall. After giving Tootsie's nose a pat, she closed the stall gate. Then she stormed out of the stables and into the main hall of the Agency. She was about to call for Oliver when she heard voices coming from the small animals' room.