We found about a dozen cows inside, of various sizes, but all long-legged and long-horned.

“Must be this man belongs to the National Trotting-Cow Association,” said Jack, as he crawled under the barbed-wire fence into the yard.  “That red beast over there in the corner ought to be able to trot a mile in less than three minutes.”

He cautiously went up to a spotted cow which seemed to be rather tamer than the rest, holding out one hand, and saying, “So, bossy,” in oily tones, as if he thought she was the finest cow he had ever seen.  When he was almost to her she looked at him quickly, kicked her nearest hind-foot at him savagely, and walked off, switching her tail, and shaking her head so that Ollie was afraid it would come off and be lost.

“Can’t fool that cow, can I?” said Jack, as he turned to another.  But he had no better luck this time, and after trying three or four more he paused and said: 

“These must be the same kind of cows Horace Greeley found down in Texas before the war.  When he came back he said the way they milked down there was to throw a cow on her back, have a nigger hold each leg, and extract the milk with a clothes-pin.”

But at last he found a brindled animal in the corner which allowed him to sit down and begin.  He was getting on well when, without the least warning, the cow kicked, and sent the pail spinning across the yard, while Jack went over backwards, and his new hat fell off.  There was one calf in the yard which had been complaining ever since we came, because it had not yet had its supper.  The pail stopped rolling right side up, and this calf ran over and put his head in it, thinking that his food had come at last.  Jack picked himself up and ran to rescue the pail.  The calf raised his head suddenly, the pail caught on one of his little horns, and he started off around the yard, unable to see, and jumping wildly over imaginary objects.  Jack followed.  A cow, which was perhaps the mother of the calf, started after Jack.  The family dog, hearing the commotion, came running down from the house and began to pursue the cow.  This wild procession went around the yard several times, till at last the pail came off the calf’s head, and Jack secured it.  Then he picked up his hat, the brim of which another calf had been chewing, rinsed out the pail at the pump, and tried another cow.

This time he selected the worst-looking one of the lot, but to the surprise of all of us she stood perfectly still, only switching him a few times with her tail.  As soon as he got a couple of quarts of milk he stopped and came out of the yard.  Ollie and I had, of course, been laughing at him a good deal, but Jack paid no attention to it.  As we walked towards the house he said: 

“Well, there’s one consolation:  after all of that work and trouble, the woman can’t put on the face to charge us for the milk.”  A moment later he said to her:  “I’ve got about two quarts; how much is it?”