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the mother over again. With a rush she is 

 beside the young creature, licking it loving- 

 ly all over the head and ears, cuddling it 

 under her chin with a low, joyful moo-oo. 

 Then she trots contentedly to the farthest 

 edge the youngling close beside there to 

 feed or lie in the sun till the bars are let 

 down and the milk-maid's cry comes peal- 

 ing over the field. 



Black Betty's voice is clear and sweet. 

 " Sook-cow ! Sook ! So-ook ! So-oo-ook ! " 

 she calls over and over through the waning 

 day. Slow, heavy, full-fed, the herd marches 

 to her behind the bell. They break to awk- 

 ward running at sight of her. She holds 

 high the little splint salt-basket, and drops 

 for each a separate pinch "a lick," she 

 calls it in some spot of bare earth on the 

 hard outer road. 



With what haste of lapping tongues they 

 devour it. Fancy yourself full-fed on water- 

 sweet herbage then think what eager long- 

 ing for the pungent, saving tang. Brandy, 

 in the relish of it, forgets the young eyes so 

 wistfully regarding her just inside the bars. 

 When the last white grain has vanished, the 

 salt earth even is scooped, she lows a good- 

 night to her big baby and ambles away to 

 her small one. 



