Chapter 2

It was the first time Johnnie Green had known the Muley Cow to jump the fence _back into_ the pasture, after jumping out of it. Before, she had always made him let down the bars for her, quite as if she had never done such a giddy thing as to leap over a fence. Now, however, she was in too great a hurry to bother with bars. So she topped the fence like a deer, while Johnnie slipped through it like a pig a few seconds later, and old Spot wriggled under it like a weasel soon afterward.

Once in the pasture they all three went slipping and sliding down the steep hillside, tore through the prickly raspberry patch, splashed through the brook, and never stopped until they saw Johnnie Green's father raking hay in a field nearby. As they came to a halt at last they looked at one another somewhat foolishly.

"You were scared," Johnnie Green accused Spot. "You made a loud enough racket; but you took good care to keep out of the bear's reach."

The old dog barked his denial. He had been the last to run away. And he thought that proved he was the bravest of the three.

"You were the scaredest," Johnnie told the Muley Cow.

And she didn't deny it. How could she know that the most frightened of all was young Cuffy Bear, and that even then he was scrambling up the steep side of Blue Mountain? He was still putting as much ground as he could between himself and the three odd folk he had met by accident in the back pasture.

Old Spot, too, never guessed how he had scared the bear. And Johnnie wouldn't have known it, either, except for what Farmer Green said when he heard about the adventure.

"That bear is probably running yet," he said as he threw back his head and laughed. "He'll never stop this side of the mountain. He must have come down to pick blackberries. But he lost his taste for them when he saw you."

"Ho!" Johnnie Green exclaimed all at once. "I might have lassoed that bear--if I had thought in time."

IX

WEARING A POKE

The cows never paid much attention to the woodchucks, unless it was to scold them now and then for eating too much clover. But living as they did in the pasture, the woodchucks took a great interest in Farmer Green's herd. Many a bit of gossip about some cow passed from one woodchuck hole to another, without the cow herself ever dreaming that folk were talking about her.

Whenever Billy Woodchuck's mother heard any specially interesting news about a cow she was more than likely to put on her best apron and hurry over to make a call on Aunt Polly Woodchuck, the famous herb doctor, who lived under the hill.

Well, one morning while the dew was still on the grass Billy saw his mother dash into the house, whisk off her old apron and reach for her best one. He knew at once, without asking, exactly where she was going. Nor was he sorry, because Mrs. Woodchuck always stayed a long time at Aunt Polly's. And that gave Billy a chance to do a number of things without being told "Don't!"

Alas! "You'd better come with me," his mother said.

"Oh, I'd rather not," he protested. "I--I'm not feeling very well this morning."

"Then you must certainly come," she insisted, "for I'm going to see Aunt Polly Woodchuck and she'll give you a dose of herbs to cure you."

Billy Woodchuck began to squirm. He saw that he had got himself into trouble.

"I'll be all right if I keep still a while," he stammered. "And then I'm going out to gather a nice lot of greens for you."

"You'll do nothing of the sort!" said his mother. "You'll come with me. You'd be sure to get into mischief if I left you here."

So off they went. And Mrs. Woodchuck hurried so fast that she was quite out of breath when she reached Aunt Polly Woodchuck's house. She had to sit down and rest before she could tell Aunt Polly the news that was on the tip of her tongue.

While waiting for her guest to compose herself, Aunt Polly Woodchuck looked over her spectacles at Billy, who lingered near the door.

"Come here, young man!" she said. Though her tone was severe, Billy Woodchuck took heart. He thought he saw a twinkle in the old lady's eye. "I can see," Aunt Polly told him, "that you need an apple." And thereupon she handed him one. And Billy Woodchuck declared as soon as he began to eat it that he felt much better.

"I hope you're quite well," Aunt Polly said to Billy's mother, who was at last beginning to get her breath.

"Yes--very!" said Mrs. Woodchuck. "I've come over to tell you the news about the Muley Cow. I hope you haven't heard it already," she added, for she dearly loved to be the first to spread a bit of gossip.

"I fear I do know it," Aunt Polly replied, as she pushed her poke bonnet back and began to fan herself with a plantain leaf. "I suppose you've just heard about the Muley Cow's meeting Cuffy Bear in the back pasture."

Mrs. Woodchuck had begun to look disappointed. But now her honest face brightened. "Oh, no! There's newer news than that," she explained. "It hasn't anything to do with the Muley Cow's jumping the fence into the back pasture."

"Do tell!" Aunt Polly exclaimed.

"It's something about her clothes--something new she's wearing." Mrs. Woodchuck wasn't going to give up her news too soon. She liked to get people well interested before she actually told them anything.

"She hasn't a pair of horns, has she!" Aunt Polly inquired eagerly.

"Oh, no! Not that! But I knew you'd like to hear the news. I knew it would please you."

"Well, _what_ is it?" Aunt Polly demanded.

"That's a pretty poke that you have on," Mrs. Woodchuck remarked.

Aunt Polly straightened her poke bonnet. "Thank you!" she said. "But do let me hear the news."

"Can't you guess it?" Mrs. Woodchuck asked her. "Can't you guess it, now that I've given you a hint?"

But Aunt Polly couldn't. So at last Mrs. Woodchuck told her the news:

"The Muley Cow is wearing a poke! I knew you'd approve of it, because you always wear one yourself."

Aunt Polly Woodchuck threw up her hands in astonishment.

"I didn't suppose the Muley Cow had sense enough to do that!" she exclaimed.

X

A SLIGHT MISTAKE

Mrs. Woodchuck was glad that she had gone to Aunt Polly Woodchuck's house to tell her the news about the Muley Cow. Aunt Polly was all in a flutter, she was so eager to see the Muley Cow in her new poke bonnet.

"Is the poke becoming to her?" Aunt Polly asked Mrs. Woodchuck.

"I haven't set eyes on it," Mrs. Woodchuck said. "Old Mr. Crow told me the news only this morning. I asked him to describe the poke. But all he could say was that I'd be surprised when I saw it."

"That's the way with men folks," Aunt Polly Woodchuck declared. "They never know anything about the styles--except that queer Mr. Frog, the tailor."

Both ladies giggled at the mere mention of Ferdinand Frog. And while they were busy tittering, Mrs. Woodchuck's son Billy helped himself to a piece of carrot from Aunt Polly's store of roots and herbs.

"I must have a look at the Muley Cow this very morning," Aunt Polly told her caller. "Won't you come with me?"

Mrs. Woodchuck said that nothing would please her more. So she ordered Billy to scamper home.

"You'll have to wait till I put on my best poke," Aunt Polly said. "If the Muley Cow has a new one I don't want to call on her in my second best."

So Mrs. Woodchuck waited. And at last they set off together to find the Muley Cow. They hadn't gone far before old Mr. Crow flapped down on a hummock near them.

"If you're looking for the Muley Cow," he squawked, "you'll find her down near the lane. And she's wearing her new poke, too."

They thanked him. And as soon as they had passed on Mrs. Woodchuck remarked what a busybody he was.

"Always poking his bill into other people's affairs!" Aunt Polly sniffed.

Still, his advice saved them a good many steps. For they found the Muley Cow just where Mr. Crow had said they would.

But she wasn't wearing a poke bonnet at all. They noticed that as soon as they caught sight of her.

"Perhaps it has fallen off her head and she doesn't know it," Aunt Polly suggested.

"I'll ask her," said Mrs. Woodchuck. And she hurried up to the Muley Cow.

"Where's your poke?" she cried. "You haven't lost it--have you?" As she spoke she noticed a peculiar something about the Muley Cow's neck. It was a sort of huge wooden collar, with a long stake that stuck out in front of her.

The Muley Cow acted very grumpy.

"Don't be impertinent!" she snapped.

"Excuse us, please!" Aunt Polly Woodchuck said to the Muley Cow. "We heard you were wearing a poke; and we wanted to see it. You know, I always wear a poke in summer. In fact, I put on my best one before leaving home."

The Muley Cow stared at her in a puzzled fashion. And at last the truth dawned upon her.

"You've made a mistake," she said. "You've misunderstood. It's not a poke bonnet that I have. It's a _poke_--this thing around my neck."

Well, Aunt Polly and Mrs. Woodchuck didn't know what to say. And they felt so uncomfortable that they turned away and started off.

"Wait a moment!" the Muley Cow called to them. "How did you hear about this poke?"

"Old Mr. Crow told me," Mrs. Woodchuck replied.

"I thought so," said the Muley Cow. "And I'd like to have a talk with him."

XI

THE UNRULY MULEY

After leaving the Muley Cow, who was wearing her new poke down by the lane, Aunt Polly Woodchuck and Billy Woodchuck's mother met old Mr. Crow again.

"Did you see her?" he asked them hoarsely.

"Yes!" they answered.

Mr. Crow gave them a sly leer. "What do you think of it?" he inquired.

They said that the poke was the strangest collar they had ever set eyes on.

"Ha! ha!" the old black rascal laughed. "I see that you don't know what it's for.... It's to keep the Muley Cow from jumping the fence into the back pasture. Farmer Green put it around her neck this morning."

"Did you ever?" said Billy Woodchuck's mother.

"Well, I never!" said Aunt Polly.

"We expected to see a poke bonnet," they both told Mr. Crow.

That made him laugh again hoarsely.

"She wants to see you. The Muley Cow wants to talk with you," Aunt Polly Woodchuck informed him.

"Is she feeling pleasant?" he asked.

"No, I shouldn't say she was," Aunt Polly replied.

"Then I'll fly over and call on her a little later," he decided. "But first I must finish my breakfast." Thereupon he rose into the air and sailed away toward the cornfield, leaving two very puzzled Woodchuck ladies behind him.

If there was anything that Mr. Crow enjoyed more than another, it was teasing some person that was angry. So he kept his word. As soon as he had finished his breakfast he came back to the pasture and sought out the Muley Cow.

"Good morning!" he said very politely.

"Ah, ha!" she cried. "You've been gossiping about me. You've been telling everybody about this poke."

"It's most becoming," Mr. Crow said with a grin. "I supposed you'd like to have the neighbors know you were wearing something new."

"Well, I don't!" she retorted. "It's bad enough to have a poke put on my neck, at my age, without having the news spread all through Pleasant Valley."

"You can thank yourself for the fix you're in," Mr. Crow told her bluntly. "At your age you should have known better than to jump fences."

"How would you like it if you had to stay in this pasture day after day?" the Muley Cow asked him.

Mr. Crow hemmed and hawed.

"How would you like it if you couldn't go into the cornfield?" she went on.

Mr. Crow choked slightly but made no reply.

"How would you like it if I went up and down Pleasant Valley telling everybody that you were a--"

But Mr. Crow didn't care to hear any more. He knew that the Muley Cow was going to say something about his stealing corn.

"It's getting late," he interrupted, though the sun hadn't been up an hour. "I must be poking along." And then he flapped himself away.

That was just like Mr. Crow. When ever he found himself getting the worst of an argument he wouldn't talk any longer.

"_Poking_ along, indeed!" the Muley Cow snorted as she watched him sailing toward the woods. "He can't fool me. He said that just to be disagreeable. He was poking fun at me!"

XII

THE COWBIRDS

Some of the Muley Cow's friends were very sorry for her, when Farmer Green put the poke around her neck to keep her from jumping the pasture fence. It was a heavy, clumsy thing to carry about all day. Sometimes, if she was not careful, the Muley Cow knocked her knees against it.

Of course, there were others in the herd, like the little red cow and the big white one, that made disagreeable remarks. When they said unkind things to her the Muley Cow pretended that the poke didn't trouble her.

"Don't you know," she said to them one day, "that it's an honor to wear a poke? It shows that I'm the most valuable animal in the herd. Farmer Green doesn't intend to lose me, if he can help it."

"Nonsense!" the little red cow cried. "Farmer Green makes you wear the poke because he doesn't want you to teach the young cattle bad habits. If he hadn't stopped you from jumping you'd soon have had all the youngsters at it."

It was now the Muley Cow's turn to cry, "Nonsense!" But somehow she couldn't quite say the word. She had a queer, guilty feeling. And she walked away looking quite glum. She didn't want to talk with anybody.

After her there followed a small flock of cowbirds.

"We aren't intruding, I hope," one plump cowbird remarked with a smirk as he settled himself near the Muley Cow's forelegs, when she stopped to graze.

"You can always count on us as being good friends of yours," a dull gray dame told the Muley Cow.

"When you're feeling sad you can depend on us to cheer you up," a glossy, greenish black gentleman chimed in with a chuckle.

The Muley Cow couldn't help thinking how pleasant it was to be among such kind companions.

"If you'll take care not to step on us we'll catch these flies that are biting you," another offered.

"Thank you!" said the Muley Cow. "You're very good to do that for an old lady like me."

The cowbirds all laughed harshly at that. Though the Muley Cow didn't see any joke, she smiled in spite of herself. At least, the cowbirds had said nothing about her poke. And that was certainly worth a smile.

In the past the Muley Cow had known plenty of cowbirds. But she had paid little heed to them, unless it was to tell them to fly away, for they were always hovering around a body's feet.

It wasn't long before the flock had caught every one of the flies that had been following the Muley Cow. And when the last one had been gobbled up--after a slight dispute as to who should have it--the cowbirds left the Muley Cow abruptly. And they seemed to have lost all their politeness before they went.

"They're shy--that's all," the Muley Cow thought. "They hurried away before I could thank them."

XIII

TRUTH WILL OUT

Later in the day the Muley Cow had a chat with a song sparrow--a musical person who had a nest cunningly hidden in the center of a bush near the pasture fence.

"What a pleasant family those cowbirds are!" the Muley Cow happened to remark. "They're so kind!"

The song sparrow gave her a queer look.

"Kind!" he echoed.

The Muley Cow saw at once that he did not agree with her.

"Yes!" she insisted. "They were very nice to me this morning. They caught all the flies that were bothering me."

The song sparrow gave a slight sniff. "They were only having their breakfast. You may be sure that they didn't catch the flies to oblige you."

"I wish," said the Muley Cow, "you wouldn't speak rudely of my friends, because they are very pleasant."

"Why, they're outcasts!" the song sparrow cried. "No decent bird will have anything to do with them. They lay their eggs in our nests and we have to bring up their lubberly children for them. If I were you I'd drive them away next time and let the flies bite. What's your tail for, anyhow, except to switch the flies off?"

"Really, I don't know," said the Muley Cow.

She felt somewhat foolish.

And soon afterward the song sparrow told his wife that there was always something to learn, no matter if one were as old as the Muley Cow.

The Muley Cow couldn't quite believe what Mr. Song Sparrow had told her about the cowbirds. But if it was true, she didn't want anything more to do with them. And if it wasn't true, she intended to be specially agreeable to them.

In order to find out what was what, the Muley Cow made up her mind to ask the cowbirds a question the very next time she met them.

It wasn't long before they gathered around her again.

"We've come to rid you of flies once more," they announced as they began to jostle one another while they snapped at the insects hovering about the Muley Cow. And one fat cowbird remarked with a smirk that it was too bad they hadn't brought the children along to help.

The others grinned; for the cowbird youngsters were all being cared for by other birds who had big enough families of their own without looking after outsiders. But they didn't know that the Muley Cow had heard any stories about that.

"Do bring your children along with you the next time you come to the pasture," the Muley Cow urged them. "I'm very fond of little ones."

The cowbirds tittered. They seemed to think there was a great joke somewhere.

"Our children are too small to leave home just yet," the fat person told the Muley Cow.

"The smaller they are the more I like them," the Muley Cow declared. "Won't you show me where your nests are? I'd love to see the little darlings cuddled in their beds."

The cowbirds stopped catching flies and looked uneasily at one another. The fat one, however, was somewhat bolder than the rest. He fluttered up and alighted right on the back of the Muley Cow.

"We don't take anybody to see our children until they leave the nests," he told the Muley Cow.

She knew, then, that the song sparrow had told her the truth.

"And I don't let cowbirds sit on my back--not after they're grown up!" she snapped. As she spoke, the Muley Cow fetched the pert gentleman a smart smack with her tail.

The blow caught him unawares and knocked him squawking upon the ground. At once his companions began to scold the Muley Cow. And so did he--as soon as he got his breath back. "You're a rough old thing!" he squalled.

"You're rascals--all of you!" cried the Muley Cow. "You can't fool me any longer. I know all about you. I wonder who named you _cowbirds_, for it's a deadly insult to me and all my family."

XIV

THE MUSKRATS' WARNING

If it hadn't been for Johnnie Green there's no knowing how long the Muley Cow would have had to wear the wooden poke about her neck. Somehow Johnnie Green guessed that she didn't like it. So he teased his father to take the poke off her. And at last Farmer Green consented.

"We'll try her without it," he said. "We'll see how she behaves. We'll see if she has learned a lesson."

It was like a holiday for the Muley Cow when she went into the pasture without the heavy poke. For all her advanced age, she kicked up her heels and galloped clumsily over the hummocky hillside, quite like a frisky calf.

For just a moment or two she was tempted to jump the fence, she felt so gay. But luckily she remembered, before it was too late, that if she left the pasture she would probably have to wear the poke all the rest of that summer. And she decided it was worth her while to behave herself.

So she stopped running--for that was just a temptation to jump; and she began to pull at choice clumps of clover with her long tongue. Then, feeling thirsty, she went to the brook, where it flowed into the mill pond, to get a drink.

She splashed down into the water, not caring at all because she wet her feet. In fact, she liked the feeling of the cool water. She had stuck her nose into the brook and had drunk several great swallows when a squeaky sort of voice cried, "Stop that!"

The Muley Cow lifted her head and stared all around, while drops of water trickled off her muzzle and fell back into the stream.

At first she couldn't see anybody. And then the voice called again, "Stop that! You'll drain our pond dry if you drink so much of our water."

Then the Muley Cow saw who was speaking. It was Paddy Muskrat. With his wife he had crept out on some stones a little way off. And there they stood, chattering and waving their paws at the Muley Cow.

"Go away!" Mrs. Muskrat shrieked. "We don't want you here."

Just then the Muley Cow noticed a big frog who sat on the bank of the brook and grinned at her. "What would you do if you were I?" she asked him.

Ferdinand Frog (for it was he) said nothing for a few seconds, but wrinkled his low brow; for he was thinking deeply.

"I believe I'd carry a parasol if I were you," he said at last. "It's a hot day and I believe you'd enjoy the shade."

The Muley Cow was puzzled. She couldn't see that Mr. Frog's answer had anything to do with the case. But Paddy Muskrat exclaimed at once that Mr. Frog had hit on the very thing.

"Go get your parasol at once!" Paddy cried. "You're liable to have a sunstroke."

"But I haven't a parasol," she objected.

"Then borrow one from Farmer Green's wife," said Mrs. Paddy. "To be sure, I don't believe in borrowing--as a rule. But it's different when somebody's in danger of a sunstroke."

Now, the Muley Cow began to feel very queer. She had never had a sunstroke; she had never even heard of one. But they sounded quite dreadful. So she climbed quickly up the bank and went and lay down in the shade of a great oak.

That was the best she could do. She knew that Farmer Green's wife would never lend her a parasol.

Anyhow, the Muskrat family was satisfied. They felt that they were no longer in danger of having their pond drained dry.

XV

CARRYING A MESSAGE

After Paddy Muskrat and his wife talked to her about sunstrokes, the Muley Cow tried to keep in the shade during the rest of the day.

Toward evening, who should come trotting out of the woods but Tommy Fox. When he noticed the Muley Cow (as he soon did, for the wind told him where she was) he turned aside to speak to her. He inquired carefully about her health, said that he hoped she was enjoying the fine weather, and remarked finally that he was glad he met her because it would save him a trip to the farmyard. "That is," Tommy added, "if you don't mind carrying a message for me."

The Muley Cow had always heard that the Fox family was terribly sly and tricky. Still, Tommy was most polite. Really, she didn't like to say no.

He saw that she couldn't quite say yes. "It doesn't matter," he told her carelessly. "There's the little red cow over there. I know she'll be glad to oblige me."

That was just the thing to make the Muley Cow want to do his errand.

"I'm sure I should be delighted to accommodate you," she told Tommy Fox. "Give me your message. And when I go home this evening I'll deliver it."

"It's for the young gobbler, Turkey Proudfoot," Tommy Fox explained. "Please tell him that a gentleman wishes to meet him by the stone wall to-night, as soon as it grows dark."

"Very well!" said the Muley Cow. "I'll tell Turkey Proudfoot that I saw you and I'll give him your message."

"Oh! Please don't mention my name!" Tommy Fox begged her. "Just say, 'a gentleman.' You see, it's to be a surprise.... You know everybody likes surprises," he added, as he grinned at the Muley Cow in the most innocent way.

She remembered that she had liked surprises herself when she was younger. So she agreed to give Turkey Proudfoot the message exactly as Tommy Fox had told it to her.

And she did. When milking time came, and Johnnie Green and old dog Spot drove the cows home, down the long lane that led to the barn, and the Muley Cow saw Turkey Proudfoot strutting about the farmyard, she told him something. She told him that a slim, red gentleman with a bushy tail and a sharp nose wanted to see him near the stone wall at nightfall. "He has a surprise for you," she added.