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Tale of Muley Cow

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<h3>XI</h3><h3>THE UNRULY MULEY</h3> After leaving the Muley Cow, who was wearing her new poke down by the lane, Aunt Polly Woodchuck and Billy Woodchuck's mother met old Mr. Crow again. "Did you see her?" he asked them hoarsely. "Yes!" they answered. Mr. Crow gave them a sly leer. "What do you think of it?" he inquired. They said that the poke was the strangest collar they had ever set eyes on. "Ha! ha!" the old black rascal laughed. "I see that you don't know what it's for.... It's to keep the Muley Cow from[Pg 51] jumping the fence into the back pasture. Farmer Green put it around her neck this morning." "Did you ever?" said Billy Woodchuck's mother. "Well, I never!" said Aunt Polly. "We expected to see a poke bonnet," they both told Mr. Crow. That made him laugh again hoarsely. "She wants to see you. The Muley Cow wants to talk with you," Aunt Polly Woodchuck informed him. "Is she feeling pleasant?" he asked. "No, I shouldn't say she was," Aunt Polly replied. "Then I'll fly over and call on her a little later," he decided. "But first I must finish my breakfast." Thereupon he rose into the air and sailed away toward the cornfield, leaving two very puzzled Woodchuck ladies behind him. [Pg 52] If there was anything that Mr. Crow enjoyed more than another, it was teasing some person that was angry. So he kept his word. As soon as he had finished his breakfast he came back to the pasture and sought out the Muley Cow. "Good morning!" he said very politely. "Ah, ha!" she cried. "You've been gossiping about me. You've been telling everybody about this poke." "It's most becoming," Mr. Crow said with a grin. "I supposed you'd like to have the neighbors know you were wearing something new." "Well, I don't!" she retorted. "It's bad enough to have a poke put on my neck, at my age, without having the news spread all through Pleasant Valley." "You can thank yourself for the fix you're in," Mr. Crow told her bluntly.[Pg 53] "At your age you should have known better than to jump fences." "How would you like it if you had to stay in this pasture day after day?" the Muley Cow asked him. Mr. Crow hemmed and hawed. "How would you like it if you couldn't go into the cornfield?" she went on. Mr. Crow choked slightly but made no reply. "How would you like it if I went up and down Pleasant Valley telling everybody that you were a—" But Mr. Crow didn't care to hear any more. He knew that the Muley Cow was going to say something about his stealing corn. "It's getting late," he interrupted, though the sun hadn't been up an hour. "I must be poking along." And then he flapped himself away. [Pg 54] That was just like Mr. Crow. When ever he found himself getting the worst of an argument he wouldn't talk any longer. "Poking along, indeed!" the Muley Cow snorted as she watched him sailing toward the woods. "He can't fool me. He said that just to be disagreeable. He was poking fun at me!" <hr style="width: 65%;" />[Pg 55] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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