THE RED COW 



chance. With a quick rush she grabbed the hat by 

 the crown. The boy turned with a yell, but he was 

 too late. For a couple of seconds there was a tug- 

 of-war pull boy, pull pig, and then the hat tore 

 apart. The boy had the brim and Beatrice had the 

 crown with its load of oats. Holding her head 

 aloft, as pigs do when trying to escape with some 

 tidbit, she held up the crown of the hat and rushed 

 into her pen. She didn't spill a grain and had a 

 good feed all to herself in a dark corner. The boy's 

 first impulse was to cry, but when he saw me he be- 

 gan to scold about having Beatrice loose in the barn- 

 yard. The joke was spoiled for me later in the day 

 when I found that it was my cow-breakfast hat that 

 had provided the sow breakfast. The boy had worn 

 it by mistake. 



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