human
H'm! said the Deacon, as he watched them.
gpt
If this is the result of your fine winter grazin', I don't want any thing to do with it. It's just slow starvation to my way o' thinking. Look at them udders! There ain't a quart apiece in 'em. Our milkin' 'll be soon over, Parson.
human
The sooner the better for me, Deacon, laughed Mr. March.
gpt
I never did like to milk.
human
Oh! let me milk! let me milk, papa! please do!
gpt
And me, too! me too!
human
Not to-night, children. It is late, and we are in a hurry,
gpt
Bless me, said Mr. March,