STEPPING-STONES 37 



them with disbehef. And in this connexion the cow 

 had a very sad family episode to relate. 



It happened to her own great-great-great-aunt, 

 which is much nearer than authentic fairy stories 

 usually come, and, handed down orally as the tale 

 had been, there could be no doubt that it actually 

 happened. 



It began on an island (replica of the one on 

 which her indirect descendant listened to the story), 

 to which the old cow moved each spring, hoping 

 and hoping for the calf who never came. All other 

 cows of her acquaintance had more young ones than 

 they wanted, voted them a nuisance, and seemed 

 bored by their odd little ways. And here she was, 

 an old beast now, eleven years old — and eleven 

 years is a good slice out of a moose cow's active 

 life — with no calf at all I 



She put all her disappointment and blighted 

 hopes down to the fact that she had once put her 

 heavy right fore-foot on to an unnoticed Puk-wudjie 

 dancing in the centre of a moose trail, which is 

 just what you might expect of a gnome who will 

 take no part in making the universally accepted 

 type of fairy ring. 



Then a moose miracle happened. 



