So Dear to My Heart Page #2

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Nice boy.

You hungry, little fella?

Hold still,Jezebel.

This little fella's hungry too.

Help me hold her, Granny.

What's the matter with you,

you fool sheep?

Hold still,

you ornery critter, you.

What's the matter with her?

Is she crazy?

Oh, sometimes

they're like that... with twins.

Especially when one of them's black.

You mean she won't take him?

- You mean she's gonna let him die?

- Well.

Maybe she'll take him

after we get outta here

and she can't see that he's black.

Here. Better wrap the little critter up

against the cold.

But, Granny, suppose she don't.

Suppose she don't take him.

Well, that's in the hands

of the Lord.

They're his critters, and their ways

are the ways he give 'em...

and there's nothin'

we can do about it.

The ways of nature

seem cruel sometimes and hard...

but there's a plan behind it all.

Oh, he knoweth

every sparrow that falleth.

Jeremiah, fetch me

another one of them flower sacks

for this little critter.

Jeremiah! I said

to fetch me one of them--

Tarnation.

Jeremiah Kincaid,

I'm puttin' my foot down.

I mean it.

If you think I'm gonna have

my kitchen smellin' like a stable,

you got another think comin'.

It ain't civilized,

it ain't sanitary and it--

Well. One of

my best dish towels.

It's got to be boiled anyway.

If you want to get it warm,

you'd better take it in by the fire.

- You mean I can--

- I mean that you can get it warm...

before you take it

back out where it belongs.

If we bottle-raise that lamb,

it'll get to be a pet.

Come time to market it,

you'll wanna keep it.

Besides, it's black.

I don't fancy black wool.

Never did.

And you know well as I do

we can't afford critters around here

that don't earn their keep.

Hard enough

to make ends meet as it is.

I'd take care of him, Granny.

I'd feed him and take care of him

and everything, Granny.

Oh, he'll grow up

to be underfoot.

I know the nature

of them black sheep.

Especially a ram.

He'll be into everything.

It ain't practical.

It just don't make sense.

You wouldn't be bad.

Would you, boy?

Might as well

warm his insides too.

Look at his face, Granny.

Hasn't he got

a cute little face?

Wicked little face,

if you ask me.

You gonna let me keep him?

Well, we'll see.

So, that's how it all came about.

I'd traded my dream of owning

a champion racehorse...

for a measly

little old black lamb.

As the wise old owl put it...

''A bird in the hand

is worth two in the bush.''

Of course, I--

I knew Granny would never

let me keep him for good.

Not if he turned out to be

just an ordinary sheep.

Danny would have to

amount to something.

Something extra special.

A champion, for instance.

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