THE OXEN TALK WITH THE CALVES
It was a clear, cold winter morning, and the Cattle stood in thebarnyard where the great yellow straw-stacks were. They had nibbled awayat the lower part of these stacks until there was a sheltered placeunderneath. The Calves liked to stand on the sunshiny side with anover-hanging ledge of straw above their heads. The wind did not strikethem here, and they could reach up and pull out wisps to eat when theyhad nothing else to do. Not that they were so fond of eating straw, butit was fun to pull it out. There was, however, usually something else tobe done, for there was always their cud to chew.
Among all the farmyard people, there were none more particular abouttheir food. They might eat in a hurry when time was short, or when thegrass was fresh and green, but after they had swallowed it and filledthe first of their four stomachs with partly chewed food, they wouldfind some quiet and comfortable place where they could stand or lieeasily and finish their eating. To do this, they had to bring the partlychewed food from the first stomach to the mouth again. They called this"unswallowing it," although they should have said "regurgitating."
After the food was back in their mouths again, it was spoken of as theircud, and the stout muscles in the sides of their faces pulled theirlower jaws up and down and sideways, and the food was caught over andover again between the blunt grinding teeth in the back part of theirmouths, and was crushed, squeezed, and turned until it was fine, soft,and ready to swallow into the second stomach.
Then the Cattle do not have to think of it again, but while they aredoing something quite different, and perhaps forgetting all about it,there are many nerves and muscles and fine red blood-drops as busy ascan be, passing it into the third and fourth stomachs, and changing thestrength of the food into the strength of the Cattle. The Cows and theOxen do not know this. They never heard of muscles and nerves, andperhaps you never did before, yet these are wonderful little helpers andgood friends if one is kind to them. All that Cattle know about eatingis that they must have clean food, that they must eat because they arehungry and not just because it tastes good, and that they must chew itvery carefully. And if they do these things as they should, they arequite sure to be well and comfortable.
The Oxen were standing by the barn door, and the Calves were talkingabout them. They liked their uncles, the Oxen, very much, but like manyother Calves the world over, they thought them rather slow andold-fashioned. Now the Colts had been saying the same thing, and sothese half-dozen shaggy youngsters, who hadn't a sign of a horn, weretelling what they would do if they were Oxen. Sometimes they spoke moreloudly than they meant to, and the Oxen heard them, but they did notknow this.
"If I were an Ox," said one, "I wouldn't stand still and let the farmerput that heavy yoke on my neck. I'd edge away and kick."
"Tell you what I'd do," said another. "I'd stand right still when hetried to make me go, and I wouldn't stir until I got ready."
"I wouldn't do that," said a third. "I'd run away and upset the stone ina ditch. I don't think it's fair to always make them pull the heavyloads while the Horses have all the fun of taking the farmer to town anddrawing the binder and all the other wonderful machines."
"Isn't it too bad that you are not Oxen?" said a deep voice behind them.The Calves jumped, and there was the Off Ox close to them. He was sonear that you could not have set a Chicken coop between him and them,and he had heard every word. The Calves did not know where to look orwhat to say, for they had not been speaking very politely. The one whohad just spoken wanted to act easy and as though he did not care, so heraised one hind hoof to scratch his ear, and gave his brushy tail a tossover one flank. "Oh, I don't know," said he.
"I used to talk in just that way when I was a Calf," said the Off Ox,with a twinkle in his large brown eyes. "All Calves think they'll dowonders when they're grown."
"I know I thought so," said the Nigh Ox, who had followed his brother.
"Well, if you wanted to," asked the Red Calf, "why don't you do thosethings now?" The others wondered how he dared to ask such a question.
"It doesn't pay," said the Nigh Ox. "Do all your frisking in playtime. Ilike fun as well as anybody, yet when our yoke is taken from its peg, Isay business is business and the closer we stick to it the better. Iknew a sitting Hen once who wanted to see everything that happened. Shewas always running out to see somebody or other, and sometimes shestayed longer than she meant to. I told her she'd better stick to hernest, and she said she didn't believe in working all the time."
"How soon did her Chickens hatch?" asked the Calves all together.
"Never did hatch, of course," chuckled the Nigh Ox. "She fooled herselfinto thinking she was working, and she made a great fuss about her legsaching and her giving up society, but she couldn't fool that nestful ofeggs. They had gotten cold and they knew it, and not one of them wouldhatch."
"Wasn't she ashamed then?" asked the Calves.
"Didn't act so," snorted the Nigh Ox. "Went around talking about hergreat disappointment, and said she couldn't see why the other Hens hadso much better luck."
The Off Ox chuckled. "He told her that he guessed it might have beensomething besides bad luck, and that the next time she'd better stay onher nest more. Then she asked him how many broods of Chickens he hadhatched. Ho-ho-ho!"
Everybody laughed, and the Calves wondered how the Nigh Ox could thinkof it without being angry. "It wouldn't pay to be angry," he said."What's the use of wasting a fine great Ox temper on a poor little Henrudeness?"
This made them think. They remembered how cross and hot anduncomfortable they often became over very small things that botheredthem, and they began to think that perhaps even Calf tempers were worthcaring for.
At last the Black Calf, the prettiest one in the yard, said, "Do youlike drawing that flat wagon which hasn't any wheels, and scrapes alongin the dust?"
"The stone-boat?" asked the Off Ox. "We don't mind it. Never mind doingour kind of work. Wouldn't like to pull the binder with its shiningknives and whirling arms, for whoever does that has to walk fast andmake sudden turns and stops. Wouldn't like being hitched to the carriageto carry the farmer's family to town. Wouldn't like to take care of theSheep, like Collie, or to grow feathers like the Geese--but we can drawstone-boats and all sorts of heavy loads, if we do say it."
The Red Calf, who was always running and kicking up his heels, said,"Oh, it's such slow work! I should think you'd feel that you would neverreach the end of your journey."
"We don't think about that," answered the Nigh Ox. "It doesn't pay. Weused to, though. I remember the time when I wished myself a Swallow,flying a mile a minute, instead of step-step-stepping my way throughlife. My mother was a sensible Cow, and wore the bell in our herd. Shecured me of that foolishness. She told me that Swallows had to fly onewing-beat at a time, and that dinners had to be eaten one mouthful at atime, and that nothing really worth while could be done in a minute. Shesaid that if we were forever thinking how much work we had to do andhow tiresome it was, we'd never enjoy life, and we wouldn't live longeither. Lazy Oxen never do. That's another thing which doesn't pay."
The Red Calf and the White Calf spoke together: "We will always besensible. We will never lose our tempers. We will never be afraid towork. We will be fine and long-lived cattle."
"Might you not better say you will _try_ to be sensible?" asked the NighOx. "You know it is not always easy to do those things, and one has tobegin over and over again."
"Oh, no," they answered. "We know what we can do."
"You might be mistaken," said the Oxen gently.
"I am never mistaken," said the Red Calf.
"Neither am I," said the White Calf.
"Well, good-morning," called the Oxen, as they moved off. "We are goingto talk with our sisters, the Cows."
After they had gone, the pretty Black Calf spoke in her pleasant way:"It seems to me I shall be an old Cow before I can learn to be good andsensible like them, but I am going to try."
"Pooh!" said the Red Calf. "It is
easy enough to be sensible if you wantto be--as easy as eating."
"Yes," said the White Calf. "I shall never lose my temper again, nowthat I am sure it is foolish to do so."
"Dear me!" said the pretty Black Calf. "How strong and good you must be.I can only keep on trying."
"Pooh!" said the Red Calf again. Then he lowered his voice and spoke toher. "Move along," said he, "and let me stand beside you in the cubbywhile I chew my cud."
"Don't you do it," cried the White Calf. "I want that place myself."
THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF.]
"I guess not!" exclaimed the Red Calf. "I'll bunt you first."
"Bunt away, then," said the White Calf, "but I'll have that place."
"Oh, please don't fight!" exclaimed the Black Calf. "I'll let one of youhave my corner."
"Don't you move," cried each of them. "I want to stand by you." Thenthey lowered their heads and looked into each other's eyes. Next, theyput their hard foreheads together, and pushed and pushed and pushed.Sometimes the Red Calf made the White Calf go backward, and sometimes itwas the other way. Once in a while they stood still and rested. Thenthey began pushing again.
While they were quarrelling in this way, getting warmer and more angryall the time, and losing those very tempers which they had said theywould always keep, a young Jersey had stepped into the cubby beside theBlack Calf, and they were having a pleasant visit. "What are thosefellows fighting about?" he asked.
The Black Calf smiled a funny little smile. "They are fighting," saidshe, "to see which one shall stand in the cubby with me and chew hiscud."
The Jersey Calf was a shrewd young fellow of very good family."Perhaps," said he, "I ought to stay and guard the place until it isdecided who shall have it."
"I wish you would," said she.
And that was how it happened that the two Calves who lost their tempershad a cross, tiresome, and uncomfortable day, while another had the verycorner which they wanted. When night came, they grumbled because theJersey Calf had come out ahead of them, and they thought it verystrange. But it was not strange, for the people who are quiet andgood-natured always come out ahead in the end. And the people who are sovery sure that it is easy to be good when they really want to, are justthe very ones who sometimes do not want to when they should.
The Black Calf was right. The only way to be sensible and happy is totry and try and try, and it does pay.
* * * * *
Among the Forest People.
By CLARA D. PIERSON.
Illustrated by F. C. Gordon.
12mo, 220 pages, cloth, gilt top--$1.25.
"A most charming series of stories for children--yes, and for childrenof all ages, both young and old--is given us in the volume before us. Noone can read these realistic conversations of the little creatures ofthe wood without being most tenderly drawn toward them, and each storyteaches many entertaining facts regarding the lives and habits of theselittle people. Mothers and teachers must welcome this little book mostcordially. One cannot speak too strongly in praise of it."--_BostonTranscript._
"In pleasant story-telling guise, much information is conveyed, and thepictures are a further help. A clever and charming book."--_PhiladelphiaEve. Telegraph._
"Is a book that every child will like to read."--_Hartford Courant._
"The scheme of the book is felicitous, and it is worked out with anacute and sympathetic appreciation of methods for enlisting theattention and impressing intelligently the memory of children. Theillustrations are distinctly helpful."--_Troy Daily Press._
"One does not know which to admire most--the intimate footing upon whichthe author stands with the forest folk, or the intelligent sympathy shehas with sweet child life. She seems to be equally in touch withboth."--_Churchman._
Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers, 31 West 23d Street, New York.
* * * * *
"_Many a mother and teacher will accord a vote of thanks tothe author._"
~Among the Meadow People.~
STORIES OF FIELD LIFE, WRITTEN FOR THE LITTLE ONES.
By CLARA D. PIERSON.
Illustrated by F. C. GORDON.
12mo, 127 pages, cloth, gilt top $1.25.
* * * * *
"One of the daintiest and in many ways most attractive of the many booksof nature study which the past year has brought forth."--_BostonAdvertiser._
"They are like Mrs. Gatty's well-known 'Parables from Nature,' writtenin the best of English, as fascinating as fairy tales, and yet 'reallytrue,' a quality which we all know appeals to the childish mind."--_N.Y. Evangelist._
"We have seen nothing better for its purpose, and hope many a teacher ofkindergartens and many a mother may avail herself of the privilege ofusing these little tales."--_N.Y. Christian Advocate._
"It will be a great advance in the work of education in the school andthe home when such books are more generally utilized."--_Zion's Herald._
"These charming stories of field life will delight many a child ofkindergarten age; and it is safe to say that older brothers and sisterswill also want to claim a share in them."--_Christian Register._
* * * * *
Sent by mail, post-paid, on receipt of price.
E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers,
31 West 23d Street, New York.
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