THE CALF 165 



calf suddenly stopped and we came together like 

 two football tackles, amid a cloud of dust. I had 

 run down my prize. 



As I slowly returned up Front Street, breath- 

 less but triumphant, I received many laughing 

 congratulations over my fleetness and determina- 

 tion. Just as I was about to reenter my yard, 

 I heard Daniel from his piazza across the way 

 shout, " Say, old man, no end obliged to you for 

 bringing back my calf. Saved me lots of trouble. 

 Let the man hitch him in my barn, please." 



Sure enough, a glance showed my calf lying 

 quietly under a tree, safely tethered to a crowbar, 

 while I had chased his infernal calf over two 

 miles at race-horse speed. In a sort of daze I 

 handed the grinning man the rope, looked at my 

 torn and dusty clothes, my shoe with the sole 

 gone and my ruined hat. 



" Curse your calf!" I hissed, and limped pain- 

 fully into my house. 



