I'm always anxious about my lambs
in the spring, and often get up in the night to look after them. That
night I went out about two o'clock. I took it into my head, for some
reason or other, to count them. I found a sheep and lamb missing, took
my lantern and Bruno, who was some good at tracking sheep, and started
out. Bruno barked and I called, and the foolish creature came to me, the
little lamb staggering after her. I wrapped the lamb in my coat, took it
to the house, made a fire, and heated some milk. Your Aunt Hattie heard
me and got up. She won't let me give brandy even to a dumb beast, so I
put some ground ginger, which is just as good, in the milk, and forced
it down the lamb's throat. Then we wrapped an old blanket round him, and
put him near the stove, and the next evening he was ready to go back to
his mother. I petted him all through April, and gave him
extras--different kinds of meal, till I found what suited him best; now
he does me credit."
"Dear little lamb," said Miss Laura, patting him. "How can you tell him
from the others, uncle?"
"I know all their faces, Laura. A flock of sheep is just like a crowd of
people.
Pages:
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312