THE RED COW 



ever went wrong, for he stood out on the lawn and 

 swore at me for half an hour. When I began to 

 get tired of the rumpus and was reaching for a copy 

 of Hansard to throw at him Sheppy came around 

 the corner of the house. The bubbly jock discreetly 

 side-stepped behind the lilac bushes, for one thing 

 that Sheppy can't endure is a hen, turkey or other 

 fowl on the lawn. In spite of his complaints the 

 gobbler is still looking after his duties as a father. 

 A little while ago when the sun was hot I saw him 

 standing beside his flock tail down, head pulled in 

 like a turtle's and his wings spread out. He had 

 converted himself into a sort of feathered pergola, 

 under which his children might have taken shelter. 

 But they paid no attention to him. Under the busy 

 and clucking guidance of the old hen they were pur- 

 suing the elusive fly and other appetising insects. 



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