Caddie Woodlawn's Family Read Online Free

disconsolate
    “How about mine?” asked Caddie.
    Mr. McCormick laughed.
    “Nay, lassie,” he said. “You’ve earned the old ewe fair an’ square, and everything that belongs to her.”
    The old ewe was on her feet now, and baaing and nuzzling Caddie’s hand whenever Caddie came near her. That was a busy winter for Caddie. Before school in the morning and after school in the evening, there were always mashes of vegetables and bran to be cooked up for Nanny.
    “You’ll get tired doing that,” said Tom.
    “Nanny!” scoffed Warren. “That’s a name for a goat.”
    “No,” said Caddie firmly. “That’s a name for Caddie Woodlawn’s sheep, and you see if I get tired of feeding her!”
    When the days began to lengthen and grow warmer toward the end of February, Caddie turned Nanny out during the day with the other sheep. At first she tied a redwoolen string about Nanny’s neck; for, even if one loves them, sheep are very much alike, and Caddie did not want to lose her own. But really that was quite unnecessary, for as soon as Nanny saw her coming with a pan of mash and an iron spoon she broke away from the others and made a beeline for Caddie. At night she came to the barn and waited for Caddie to let her in.
    One morning in March, when Caddie had risen early to serve Nanny’s breakfast before she went to school, Robert came out of the barn to meet her. She had flung Mother’s shawl on over her pinafore, and the pan of warm mash which she carried steamed cozily in the chill spring air.
    For once Robert was neither singing nor whistling at his work, and he looked at Caddie with such a mixture of sorrow and glad tidings on his honest Irish face that Caddie stopped short.
    “Something’s happened!” she cried.
    “Aye. Faith, an’ you may well say so, Miss Caddie,” said Robert seriously.
    Caddie’s heart almost stopped beating for a moment. Something had happened to Nanny! In a daze of apprehension she ran into the barn.
    “You’re not to feel too grieved now, mavourneen,” said Robert, coming after her. “You did more for the poor beast than any other body would have done.”
    But words meant nothing to Caddie now, for in solemn truth the thin thread of life which she had coaxed along in the sick sheep all winter had finally ebbed away and Nanny was dead. Caddie flung away the pan of mash and knelt down beside the old sheep. She could not speak or make asound, but the hot tears ran down her cheeks and tasted salty on her lips. Her heart felt ready to burst with sorrow.
    “Wurra! Wurra! Wurra!” said Robert sympathetically, leaning over the side of the stall and looking down on them. “But ’tis an ill wind blows nobody good. Why don’t ye look around an’ see the good the ill wind has been a-blowing of you?”
    Caddie shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight shut to keep the tears from flowing so fast.
    “Look!” he urged again.
    Robert had come into the stall and thrust something soft and warm under her hand. The something soft and warm stirred, and a faint small voice said,
“Ma-a-a-a!”
    “Look!” said Robert. “Its Ma is dead and, faith, if ’tis not a-callin’
you
Ma! It knows which side its bread is buttered on.”
    Caddie opened her eyes in astonishment. Her tears had suddenly ceased to flow, for Robert had put into her arms something so young and helpless and so lovable that half of her sorrow was already swept away.
    “It’s a lamb!” said Caddie, half to herself, and then to Robert, “Is it—Nanny’s?”
    “Aye,” said Robert, “it is that. But Nanny was too tired to mother it. ‘Sure an’ ’tis all right for me to go to sleep an’ leave it,’ says Nanny to herself, ‘for Caddie Woodlawn is a rare provider.’”
    Caddie wrapped the shawl around her baby and cradled the small shivering creature in her arms.
    “Potato mash won’t do,” she was saying to herself.
    “Warm milk is what it needs, and maybe Mother will give me one of Baby Joe’s bottles to make