THE RED COW 



the bottom of the stack of cornstalks I had noticed 

 that the butts of some of the sheaves were mouldy. 

 As the tops of them were fresh and good I had fed 

 them, thinking that the brutes would know enough 

 not to eat the parts that were damaged, but it doesn't 

 do to bank on the intelligence of even the brightest 

 cows. The farrier agreed that that had probably 

 started the trouble, and I felt somewhat disgusted 

 with myself. When I didn't know enough not to 

 feed such stuff I need not expect the cows to know 

 enough not to eat it. It was a wonder that more of 

 them were not ailing. 



After the farrier had filled the quart bottle with 

 a mixture that smelled suspiciously like doses I have 

 had to take myself when my stomach has been out 

 of order, we went through the exercise of holding up 

 her head and pouring it down her throat. This time 

 she tried so hard to spit that she almost did it and 

 I wished that she had been able, for I know what nux 

 vomica and such stuff tastes like. The farrier then 

 mixed a bunch of powders to be given her in a bran 

 mash, every night and morning, and judging from 

 the way she goes at the bran she has forgiven him 

 everything. I may say, by the way, that the bran 

 is now about the most expensive part of the dose, and 



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