Life on a Wisconsin Farm 



we had washed him to make him healthy. He 

 told us we ought to be ashamed of ourselves, 

 "soaking the puir beast in cauld water at this 

 time o' year"; that when we wanted to clean 

 him we should have sense enough to use the 

 brush and curry-comb. 



In summer Dave or I had to ride after the 

 cows every evening about sundown, and Jack 

 got so accustomed to bringing in the drove 

 that when we happened to be a few minutes 

 late he used to go off alone at the regular time 

 and bring them home at a gallop. It used to 

 make father very angry to see Jack chasing the 

 cows like a shepherd dog, running from one to 

 the other and giving each a bite on the rump 

 to keep them on the run, flying before him as if 

 pursued by wolves. Father would declare at 

 times that the wicked beast had the deevil in 

 him and would be the death of the cattle. The 

 corral and barn were just at the foot of a hill, 

 and he made a great display of the drove on the 

 home stretch as they walloped down that hill 

 with their tails on end. 



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