n I had to aid her in coming to a
decision.

For two summers she was a well-spring of pleasure and profit in my farm
of one acre, when in an evil moment I resolved to part with her and try
another. In an evil moment I say, for from that time my luck in cattle
left me. Juno never forgave me the execution of that rash and cruel
resolve.

The day is indellibly 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 bloodstained 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 market men. 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 corn stalks, 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 seemed lengthened; for another, her udder
does not impede her travelling; for a third, her backbone inclines
strongly to the curve; then, she despiseth hay. This last is a sure