Her brother did not answer.  He had fallen down on his face, and his mouth was full of straw.  And when he did get up he saw that the calf had kicked open the gate of its stall, and was running around the barnyard, all green striped and spotted.

“Moo!  Moo!” cried the mother cow, when she saw her little one break out.  Then the old cow pushed very hard on the gate that shut her in.  Open went the gate, and out ran the cow to be with her little calf.

“Oh, Bunny!  Look!” cried Sue.  “Our circus zebra-cow will run away!”

Bunny jumped to his feet, and, leaving the overturned pot of paint behind him, out he ran into the barnyard.

“Whoa!  Whoa there, bossy-calf!” he cried.

“You don’t say whoa to cows, you say that to horses!” called Sue to her brother.

“What do you say to cows?” Bunny wanted to know.

“You call ’Co boss!  Co boss!  Co boss’!” answered Sue.  “I know ’cause I heard grandma call them to be milked.  Call ‘Co boss!’ Bunny.”

The little boy did, but there was no need to, for the little calf, once it found that the mother cow was with it, did not run any farther.  The mother cow put out her red tongue and “kissed” her little calf some more.  She did not seem to mind the green paint, though perhaps if she had gotten some in her mouth she might not have liked it.

“Well, anyhow,” said Bunny Brown, “we have a striped zebra for our circus.  And when I get some blue paint I’ll paint our dog Splash, and make a tiger of him, Sue.”

“Did the calf-zebra hurt you when she kicked you over, Bunny?” Sue wanted to know.

“No, hardly any.  Her feet are soft, and I fell on the straw.  But all the paint is spilled.”

“Maybe there’s a little left so Henry can finish the wheelbarrow,” suggested Sue.

“I’ll go and look,” offered Bunny.  But he did not get the chance.  For just then Henry came into the barnyard.

“Have you seen my pot of green paint,” he asked.  “I left it—­”

Then he saw the green striped calf.  At first he laughed and then he said: 

“Oh, this is too bad!  That’s one of your grandpa’s best calves, and he won’t like it a bit, painting him that way.”

“He’s a zebra,” said Bunny.

“No matter what he is,” and Henry shook his head, “it’s too bad.  I shouldn’t have left the paint where you could get it.  I’ll have to tell Mr. Brown.”

Bunny and Sue felt bad at this.  They had not thought they were doing anything wrong, but now it seemed that they were.

“Will—­will grandpa be very sorry?” asked Sue.

“Yes, he’ll be very sorry and angry,” answered the hired man, “he’ll not like it to see his calf all streaked with green paint.”

But Grandpa Brown was not as angry at Bunny and Sue as he might have been.  Of course he said they had done wrong, and he felt bad.  But no one could be angry for very long at Bunny Brown and his sister Sue.  They were so jolly, never meaning to be bad.  They just didn’t think.