“There is a stray cow out in the pasture,” the clergyman informed his wife as he sipped his coffee.

“Whose is it?” was the somewhat absent-minded reply, for Mrs. Royal’s attention was upon Rodney, who was creeping gaily about the floor, examining every nook, and making himself perfectly at home.

“I don’t know whose it is,” the parson retorted, a little nettled at his wife’s question.  “I can tell you about every man, woman, and child in this parish; I know all the horses and dogs, and can give you their pedigrees.  But I draw a line at cows, pigs, hens, and cats.  I am fond enough of them, but there is a limit to the things I can remember.  I forget too much as it is.  And, by the way, that reminds me that I must go to Hazlewood to-day.  Joe Bradley told me last night that his mother is ill, and wishes to see me.  He came all the way to the meeting on purpose to tell me, and to think that I nearly forgot all about it!  It was that young rascal, though, who did it,” and the parson turned his eyes upon the baby.  “Do you think that you can make out alone with him, Martha?  I fear that I shall be away all day, as there are several other calls I must make at Hazlewood.”

“Oh, I shall make out all right,” was the reply.  “But there are several things you might bring me from the store on your way home.  I will make out a list for you, as you would be sure to forget them.”

It was almost dusk when Parson Dan returned from his long journey, tired and hungry.

“How is the boy?” he asked as he entered the house, after having stabled Sweepstakes.

“He’s as good as gold, Daniel,” Mrs. Royal replied.  “But I am worried about Brindle.  She hasn’t come in yet, and I cannot see her anywhere in the pasture.”

“She’s with that strange cow, no doubt, Martha, and I shall go after her at once.  It will be too dark if I wait until supper is over.”

Parson Dan was absent for about an hour, and it was dark when he returned to the rectory.  He looked disappointed.

“Brindle is gone,” was the news he imparted to his wife.  “I found where the fence was broken down.  That strange cow must have done it, for I never knew Brindle to do such a thing.  I wonder how that cow got in there, anyway.  It is a complete mystery to me.  I tried to follow the cows through the woods, but it got so dark that I was forced to give up the search.  I must be off early in the morning or there will be no milk for the wee lad’s breakfast.”

“And none for our coffee, Daniel,” was his wife’s reminder.  “Milk will be a very poor substitute for cream, but it will be better than nothing.”

“That’s quite true, Martha.  It’s been a long time since we’ve been without milk or cream in the house.  But we can stand it better than the baby.  Poor little chap, he must not starve, even if we have to borrow some from our neighbours.  I hope Rodney has not tired you too much to-day, dear.  It has been years since you had the care of a baby.”