A SICK COW 



tail, wriggled her backbone, coughed and sneezed 

 and showed other unmistakable signs of wrath and 

 discomfort. She did not seem to appreciate our ef- 

 forts in her behalf, and after I had thought it over 

 for a minute I realised what she was objecting to. 

 I put myself in her place. What would I want to do 

 if any one had forced a dose like that down my 

 throat? I would want to spit, of course. That was 

 what was the matter with old Fenceviewer. She 

 wanted to spit, but the limitations of a cow are such 

 that she couldn't do it. If she were only able to do 

 it she would spit like a cat. I felt truly sorry for 

 her, but as I had done everything for the best I 

 didn't do any worrying. While watching her I no- 

 ticed that she grunted faintly every time she breathed, 

 so I decided that we needed some expert advice and 

 called in a neighbour who has had much experience 

 with cows. After he had pressed his ear to her side 

 for a while he diagnosed her case as pleuro-pneu- 

 monia. It had never occurred to me before that 

 dumb animals could have diseases with Latin names 

 and that probably needed high-priced treatment. 

 He advised calling in the farrier at once, and I dis- 

 patched a boy to the nearest telephone to do this, 

 and we went to the house to await his arrival. The 



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