n his eyes that her wrath would be, for the moment, disarmed,
and her fell purpose would fritter out in a futile "Scat, you brute!"
Then she would condone her weakness by thinking of what she would do
to the animal "some day."

That "some day," as luck would have it, came rather sooner than
she expected. From the first, the little moose had evinced a
determination to take up his abode in the kitchen, in his dread of
being separated from Jabe. Being a just man, Jabe had conceded at
once that his wife should have the choosing of her kitchen guests;
and, to avoid complications, he had rigged up a hinged bar across
the kitchen doorway, so that the door could safely stand open. When
the little bull was not at Jabe's heels, and did not know where to
find him, his favourite attitude was standing in front of the
kitchen door, his long nose thrust in as far as the bar would permit,
his long ears waving hopefully, his eyes intently on the mysterious
operations of Mrs. Jabe's housework. Though she would not have
acknowledged it for worlds, even to her inmost heart, the good woman
took much satisfaction out of that awkward, patient presence in the
doorway. When things went wrong with her, in that perverse way so
trying to the careful housewife, she could ease her feelings
wonderfully by expressing them without reserve to the young moose, who
never looked amused or attempted to answer back.

But one day, as it chanced, her feelings claimed a more violent
easement--and got it. She was scrubbing the kitchen floor. Just in the
doorway stood the scrubbing-pail, full of dirty suds. On a chair close
by stood a dish of eggs. The moose calf was nowhere in sight, and the
bar was down. Tired and hot, she got up from her aching knees and went
over to the stove to see if the pot was boiling, ready to make fresh
suds.

At this moment the young bull, who had been searching in vain all over
the farm for Jabe, came up to the door with a silent, shambling rush.
The bar was down. Surely, then, Jabe was inside! Overjoyed at the
opportunity he lurched his long legs over the threshold. Instantly his
great, loose hoofs slid on the slippery floor, and he came down
sprawling, striking the pail of dirty suds as he fell. With a seething
souse the slops went abroad, all over the floor. At the same time the
bouncing pail struck the chair, turned it over, and sent the dish of
eggs crashing in every direction.

For one second Mrs. Jabe stared rigidly at the