Having once received the stimulus that her presence always gave them they went round among the sheep with a will.

The majority of the afflicted animals were lying down, and could not be stirred.

These were bodily lifted out, and the others driven into the adjoining field.

Here, after the lapse of a few minutes, several more fell down, and lay helpless and livid as the rest.
Bathsheba, with a sad, bursting heart, looked at these primest specimens of her prime flock as they rolled there-- Swoln with wind and the rank mist they drew.
Many of them foamed at the mouth, their breathing being quick and short, whilst the bodies of all were fearfully distended.
"Oh, what can I do, what can I do!" said Bathsheba, helplessly.
"Sheep are such unfortunate animals!--there's always something happening to them! I never knew a flock pass a year without getting into some scrape or other." "There's only one way of saving them," said Tall.
"What way?
Tell me quick!" "They must be pierced in the side with a thing made on purpose." "Can you do it?
Can I ?" "No, ma'am.

We can't, nor you neither.