conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know a description for a book titled The Sooterkin about [The, Sooterkin], York with the genre: Literature & Fiction, World Literature?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: [The Sooterkin] has the intoxicating fragrance of magic-and magical storytelling. -- The New York Post
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Sooterkin
  The chaplain picks up everything except the truncheon, and places it, as if for safekeeping, between the roots of a tree. Then, on second thoughts, he removes the sonnets, pauses, holds up the linen shirt (which is far too small for him but might be cut up to form a summer vest), reconsiders the ladies' handkerchiefs, the clothes brush and the mustard, and finally stuffs everything into his satchel in the hope that Mrs Jakes will find some use for them.
  Meanwhile the horse has wandered off another fifty yards, out of nothing but wilfulness and, perhaps, curiosity to see what the chaplain will do next.
  Mr Kidney buckles his satchel and pulls it over his shoulder. He searches the shadows until he sees Nelson scratching his neck against a tree—an action which usually signals recalcitrance.
  The gelding stops scratching and eyes the chaplain coldly through the trees. It is no fool. It has seen things during the night (a sheep's carcass, a gentleman's wig left to rot in the river) that imply the presence of more dangerous creatures than Mr Kidney. The ruffians who put a hat on its head and a cartridge belt around its neck were notably grudging with their oats. In short, it seems better to remain with the chaplain than abandon him. The animal swishes its tail and, having made up its mind, trots towards him.
  A sorry Tale has reached our Ears concerning the Begetters of the celebrated SOOTERKIN, or (as the Doubters have it) SEAL PUP, upon whose miraculous Conception we have already confided our Opinion. We are informed that the furry Infant was mislaid, presumed stolen, on Tuesday last, within Sight of the Barracks Gate. Further, that the Boy entrusted with chaperoning the Creature has also disappeared. Such, we may observe, is the Fickleness of FATE, which delivers new Riches into our Hands only to steal that Portion which is ours already.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know four more paragraphs? End with the sentence ' And Mr Kidney finds himself staring down the barrel of a cocked pistol.'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Reverend Mr Kidney, preparing to entrust himself to an uncertain future as chaplain of Van Diemen's Land and sensing that this has been a less than auspicious start, glances at the passengers staring at him balefully through the window of a private lounge. A flagon of port has been put at their disposal and several of the gentlemen have worked up fierce tempers, expressed in vengeful looks and sarcastic gestures. The ladies seem torn between pity and contempt. His own gaze is drawn to the flagon, and the untouched glass beside it, which was presumably intended for him.
  There were so many things he couldn't bring with him, things which would have lent a modicum of comfort to his spartan existence and eased the muddy misery of his first year. Books mostly, but also a green velvet smoking coat, some leather slippers, a polished steel shaving mirror and a set of ivory-handled brushes. And a violin, for which he had no talent, but whose loss seemed to symbolise some profound regression from cultivated English clergyman to mendicant colonial parson.
  Gradually the chaplain becomes aware of a noise, the insistent yelp of a young seal. Then another. Then a third, a fourth. Sooterkins, barking in his ear, nuzzling him with their sharp whiskers. Sooterkins everywhere, wrinkling their black button noses, waiting to be baptised. The Reverend Mr Kidney is splashing water on their foreheads and blessing them one by one in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
  The horse lurches back, shaking the chaplain out of his dream and splattering his stockings with mud. A plump black lizard scampers away and squeezes itself under a rock. And Mr Kidney finds himself staring down the barrel of a cocked pistol.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last two paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: YOU ARE still here, moist-eyed from excitement, or relief, or both. Summer has arrived and Hobart Town is baking in the sun. The Customs House is full of sweating clerks and splitting furniture. The rivulet stinks like a cesspool and horses are going mad from the dust. The meat store is humming with blowflies and the salt beef is ready to walk again.
  We are this Morning favoured with the surprising News that the Mother of the SEAL PUP is again with Child, a bare FIVE MONTHS after the Delivery of that illustrious Infant whose singular Gifts inspired such earnest Reflection among those disposed to contemplate them. Prudence alone prevents us from speculating on the Shape of the Lady's Expectations and the Manner by which that felicitous Offspring was conceived. Suffice it to say that such remarkable Fertility, wrenched from the Barrenness of Sorrow, must instil great Hopes for the Survival and Prosperity of this beleaguered Colony.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the last sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: YOU ARE still here, moist-eyed from excitement, or relief, or both. Summer has arrived and Hobart Town is baking in the sun. The Customs House is full of sweating clerks and splitting furniture. The rivulet stinks like a cesspool and horses are going mad from the dust. The meat store is humming with blowflies and the salt beef is ready to walk again.
  We are this Morning favoured with the surprising News that the Mother of the SEAL PUP is again with Child, a bare FIVE MONTHS after the Delivery of that illustrious Infant whose singular Gifts inspired such earnest Reflection among those disposed to contemplate them. Prudence alone prevents us from speculating on the Shape of the Lady's Expectations and the Manner by which that felicitous Offspring was conceived.