which she shook now
and then in what appeared to be a most vicious fashion.

Only once before had Seth ever seen an animal of this species, and
then it was when he and Pip Smith had travelled over to the Erie Yards
to see a drove of oxen taken from the cars to the abattoir.

It surely seemed very dangerous to turn loose such a huge beast; but
Seth was determined to perform whatsoever labor lay in his power, with
the idea that he might not be called upon to pay quite as much for
breakfast, and, summing up all his courage, he advanced toward the
cow.

She shook her head restively, impatient for the breakfast of sweet
grass, and he leaped back suddenly, frightened as badly of her as Aunt
Hannah had been of Snip.

Once more he made an attempt, and once more leaped back in alarm, this
time to be greeted with a peal of merry laughter, and a volley of
shrill barks from Snip, who probably fancied Seth stood in need of his
protection.

"Why did you jump so?" Gladys asked merrily.

Seth's face reddened, and he stammered not a little in reply:

"I reckon that cow would make it kind'er lively for strangers,
wouldn't he?"

"And you are really afraid of poor old White-Face? Why, she's as
gentle as Snippey, though of course you couldn't pet her so much."

Then Gladys stepped boldly forward, and Snip whined and barked in a
perfect spasm of fear at being carried so near the formidable-looking
animal.

"Now, you are just as foolish as your master," Gladys said with a
hearty laugh; but she allowed the dog to slip down from her arms, and
as he sought safety behind his master, she unloosened the chain from
the cow's neck, leading her by the horn out of the barn.

Then it was that Snip plucked up courage to join the girl who had been
so kind to him, and Seth, thoroughly ashamed at having betrayed so
much cowardice, followed his example.

"I want to do something toward paying for my breakfast," he said
hesitatingly; "but I never saw a cow before, and that one acted as if
he was up to mischief. I s'pose they're a good deal like dogs--all
right after a feller gets acquainted with 'em."

"Some cows are ugly, I suppose," Gladys replied reflectively, taking
Snip once more in her arms as the little fellow hung back in alarm
when White-Face stopped to gather a tempting bunch of clover; "but
Aunt Hannah has had this one ever since she was a calf, and we two are
great friends. She's a real well-behaved cow, an' never makes any
troub