The Cow 329 



and petted the calves, gave them nubbins of 

 corn — nubbins, understand, are short ears, 

 just the size to go in a calf's mouth — 

 rubbed their noses over with a rabbit's foot, 

 for luck, then set them free to gallop away 

 and bleat their tale of ill-usage to the rest. 



After two or three such afternoons the 

 calves were hitched to Billy-Boy's truckle- 

 wagon, and made to draw it without a load. 

 A truckle-wagon is somewhat a primitive 

 vehicle, yet it is a question if a real live boy 

 could get as much fun out of the finest in the 

 shops as the truckle-wagon affords. The 

 wheels are solid rounds, four inches thick, 

 sawed from the butt of a black-gum log. 

 They tare commonly about eighteen inches 

 across. Then the truckle-wagon is good for 

 something. With wheels a foot across, it is 

 little more than a toy. The running gear, like 

 the wheels, is home-made ; the axles of sea- 

 soned oak, with nails for linch-pins. There 

 are rocking bolsters that do not rock worth 

 mentioning, upright standards, and a box-body 

 fitting racketily between them. The body was 

 for use when Billy-Boy himself, or walnuts, 

 or bark for cake-baking had to be hauled. 

 Serious work, — such as fetching a barrel of 

 water a-field, or a barrel of cider from the 

 orchard, or taking the scalding-tub down to 

 the creek, when hog-killing was afoot, — 



