moment I say, for from that time my luck in
cattle left me. The goddess never forgave me the execution of that rash
and cruel resolve.

The day is indelibly stamped on my memory when I exposed my Chloe for
sale in the public market-place. It was in November, a bright, dreamy,
Indian summer day. A sadness oppressed me, not unmixed with guilt and
remorse. An old Irish woman came to the market also with her pets to
sell, a sow and five pigs, and took up a position next me. We condoled
with each other; we bewailed the fate of our darlings together; we
berated in chorus the white-aproned but blood-stained fraternity who
prowled about us. When she went away for a moment I minded the pigs, and
when I strolled about she minded my cow. How shy the innocent beast was
of those carnal marketmen! How she would shrink away from them! When
they put out a hand to feel her condition she would "scrooch" down her
back, or bend this way or that, as if the hand were a branding-iron. So
long as I stood by her head she felt safe--deluded creature!--and chewed
the cud of sweet content; but the moment I left her side she seemed
filled with apprehension, and followed me with her eyes, lowing softly
and entreatingly till I returned.

At last the money was counted out for her, and her rope surrendered to
the hand of another. How that last look of alarm and incredulity, which
I caught as I turned for a parting glance, went to my heart!

Her stall was soon filled, or partly filled, and this time with a
native,--a specimen of what may be called the cornstalk breed of
Virginia; a slender, furtive, long-geared heifer just verging on
cowhood, that in spite of my best efforts would wear a pinched and
hungry look. She evidently inherited a humped back. It was a family
trait, and evidence of the purity of her blood. For the native blooded
cow of Virginia, from shivering over half rations of cornstalks in the
open air during those bleak and windy winters, and roaming over those
parched fields in summer, has come to have some marked features. For
one thing, her pedal extremities seem lengthened; for another, her
udder does not impede her traveling; for a third, her backbone inclines
strongly to the curve; then, she despiseth hay. This last is a sure
test. Offer a thorough-bred Virginia cow hay, and she will laugh in
your face; but rattle the husks or shucks, and she knows you to be her
friend.

The new-comer even declined corn-meal at first. She eyed it