human
They are poor, tender little things, any way. Well, I mind the time when there was a great storm, and grandfather had to be up all night, housing the poor craturs; for the lambs were coming fast. A little past midnight, mother called me, and there we sat till morning, before a blazing fire, warming up one and another, as he brought them in. I sat down on a cricket, and took two or three in my lap at once, and hugged them up to my bosom. When they began to twitch, and we found they must die, we put them on the great hearth rug, and took more. Sometimes they'd just lie down and go to sleep, and when we had time to look at them, they'd be stiff and cold; and then again they would cry out like a baby. It used to make my heart ache to hear them.
gpt
I don't think I should like to be a shepherdess,
human
O, yes, you'd like it mightily. Such a time as that only comes once in a great many years. And then, when it's warm summer weather, and the lambs frisk and frolic about their mothers in the field, and you just sit down and play on the accordeon, while the dog keeps the flock in order,--O, there's no work so pleasant or so healthy as that!
gpt
I want to know all I can about them,