conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the first five paragraphs for a book with the title 'Shepherds and Butchers'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Shepherds and Butchers
  It was a wall of political protest and defiance, mostly by black prisoners raging against the white regime, with the odd riposte by a white prisoner. Some light relief was provided by the career criminals, for whom a stay in the cells was merely part of the job, an occupational risk, so to speak, and thus to be endured with fortitude, a bit of cheek and some good humour.
  Wierda and Labuschagne were working at the table, poring over the papers and concentrating on the job at hand. I studied our client for a moment. A rather serious young man, but given the circumstances, that could be forgiven. The question was, would he let us down when he got into the witness box? Clients always do; that is just one of the hazards of the job. Somehow cases always seemed to go well until the client steps into the witness box; then all the careful stitches in the cloth holding the case together are unravelled one by one. There was a sobering message for me on another part of the wall, however:
  When Wierda had completed the briefing, I called for the cell sergeant. Our brief sojourn in the cell confronted me yet again with the claustrophobia of life in prison. The sergeant followed us into the courtroom up the steps leading into the dock.
  The Court started promptly at two-fifteen. The defence experts had taken seats at Roshnee's table, directly behind me. Marianne Schlebusch and Dr Shapiro sat ready to observe and to give advice, but for the time being all eyes were on the defendant.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Add another sentence about wished, shipping, sterling.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Shepherds and Butchers
  It was a wall of political protest and defiance, mostly by black prisoners raging against the white regime, with the odd riposte by a white prisoner. Some light relief was provided by the career criminals, for whom a stay in the cells was merely part of the job, an occupational risk, so to speak, and thus to be endured with fortitude, a bit of cheek and some good humour. 
  Wierda and Labuschagne were working at the table, poring over the papers and concentrating on the job at hand. I studied our client for a moment. A rather serious young man, but given the circumstances, that could be forgiven. The question was, would he let us down when he got into the witness box? Clients always do; that is just one of the hazards of the job. Somehow cases always seemed to go well until the client steps into the witness box; then all the careful stitches in the cloth holding the case together are unravelled one by one. 
  I wished I was far away from there, perhaps in a nice shipping case with lots of documentary exhibits and fees paid in pounds sterling or US dollars. There was a sobering message for me on another part of the wall, however:
  When Wierda had completed the briefing, I called for the cell sergeant. Our brief sojourn in the cell confronted me yet again with the claustrophobia of life in prison. The sergeant followed us into the courtroom up the steps leading into the dock. 
  The Court started promptly at two-fifteen. The defence experts had taken seats at Roshnee's table, directly behind me. Marianne Schlebusch and Dr Shapiro sat ready to observe and to give advice, but for the time being all eyes were on the defendant.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me four more paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: He tried to control the sobbing and spoke with a heaving chest. 'I can't believe I did that. How could I have done that?' he asked me. I noted that he referred to the incident as that, indicating that he was still not able to associate himself with it.
  That gave me the opening I needed for my last question. 'Could you tell His Lordship how you see yourself now? Two years ago you were a school prefect and active in the church, and now you are here in court, on trial for murder.'
  The Judge suggested that we take the tea adjournment early and we agreed. Wierda and Antoinette went over to the witness box, each with a glass of water.
  Labuschagne was still crying, but softly now, as the cell sergeant escorted him down the steps to the cells. I stayed in court because I wanted to be alone.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Give me the last four paragraphs.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The moratorium came a week too late for Kukaleni Solomon Ngobeni, destined to be the last man to be hanged in Pretoria:
  In February 1990 Nelson Mandela was released by de Klerk. On 10 May 1994 Mandela was sworn in as President, the first African to hold that office, exactly as Dr Verwoerd had reportedly told Dimitri Tsafendas nearly thirty years earlier.
  During the moratorium judges around the country continued to impose the death sentence until June 1996 when the Constitutional Court held it to be incompatible with the right to life guarantee of the Constitution negotiated between de Klerk and Mandela. Special legislation was passed and those awaiting execution were given long terms of imprisonment instead.
  By then more than four thousand men and women had been hanged in Pretoria, the first on 12 August 1902 and the last on 14 November 1989.