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| Courtesy of the Penguin Group |
The baby lamb Margaret Aldrich had been sketching suddenly scampered over to its mother at the field’s opposite end.
From behind her the eight year old heard a soft laugh.
“Aye, young Herdwick lambs can be difficult subjects when hungry for their mother’s milk.”
Margaret turned to face a tiny bent over old woman. Chubby and dressed in a heavy mismatched tweed skirt and jacket she wore a shapeless navy hat with a frayed ribbon jammed over her short gray hair.
“Can I see your drawing?” she asked walking over to the low stoned wall where the girl sat.
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