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fields, through a garden, now bleak and snowy, 

 and into the large, warm kitchen of the farmhouse. 



There Nelly, Mr, Brown's daughter, was ready 

 for them. She had some milk warmlngf on the 

 stove. The lambs were taken from the sack. 

 They were too chilled and weak to stand. Nelly 

 mixed some whiskey with the warm milk, and then 

 she and her father 

 poured it down the 

 lambs' throats by spoon- 

 fuls. Those that 

 seemed weakest were 

 attended to first. 



Soon all the Iambs 

 began to revive ; even 

 the very little one that 

 had seemed dead, 

 though they had to 

 work a long time over it. 



The weather was so bitterly cold that Mr. 

 Brown was afraid the lambs would die if they were 

 taken out again, even as far as the barn, so for 

 several days they were kept in the kitchen. A 

 bed of hay was made for them in one corner, and 

 fenced about with chairs, so that they could not 



The Pet Lamb 



