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Behind the first sheep, trotted a second, a third, a fourth. until the whole flock stood around her at the spring. Each sheep had a tiny bell around its neck and as the sheep came there, the bells gave a gentle tinkle. But wonder of wonders, the little girl could hear them. She could now really hear.
They were her father's sheep. There was the faithful, old white dog, trotting along and wagging his tail, as he looked up in the eyes of Barta, the shepherd, as much as to say, "What's all this about?"
