as tightly screwed up
in small curls as any Astracan fleece, and from being of so much more
active a race, they are smaller and more compact than English lambs, and
not so awkward and leggy. A merino lamb of a couple of hours old is far
better fitted to take care of itself up a mountain than a civilized and
helpless lamb of a month old, besides these latter being so weak about
the knees always. I only mention this, not out of any desire to "blow"
about our sheep, but because I want to account for my tender-heartedness
on the subject of desolate orphans. The ewes scarcely ever died of
disease, unless by a rare chance it happened to be a very old lady whose
constitution gave way at last before a severe winter. We oftenest found
that the dead mother was a fine fat young ewe; who had slipped up on a
hill-side and could not recover herself, but had died of exhaustion and
fatigue from her violent efforts to kick herself up again. If we chanced
to be in time to rescue her by the simple process of setting her on her
legs again, it would be all right, but sometimes the poor creature had
been cold and stiff for hours before we found her, and her lamb had
bleated itself hoarse and hungry, and was as tame as a pet dog. Now
_who_ could turn away from a little helpless thing like that, who
positively leaped into your arms and cuddled itself up in delight,
sucking vigorously away at your glove, or anything handy? Not I, for
one,--though I might as well have left it alone, so far as its ultimate
fate was concerned; but I always hoped for better luck next time, and
carried it off in my arms.

The first thing to be do be on arrival at home, was to give the starving
little creature a good meal out of a tea-pot, and the next, to put it
to sleep in a box of hay in a warm corner of the kitchen. What always
seemed to me so extraordinary, was that the lambs, one and all,
preserved the most cheerful demeanour, ate and drank and slept
well,--and yet died within a month. Some lingered until quite four weeks
had passed, others succumbed to my treatment in a week. I varied their
food, mixing oatmeal with the milk; some I fed often, others seldom; to
some I gave sugar in the milk, others had new milk. There was abundance
of grass just outside the house for them to eat, if they could. Some
did mumble feebly at it, I remember, but the mortality continued
uninterrupted. It must have been very ridiculous to a visitor, to see
my dear little snowy pets g