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"I'll feed Horse, Chickens and Pig, I'll milk old Cow," said he, "And when this is done, my work's just begun, Today I must work, so I see, so I see!
Today I must work, so I see!"
So he fed Horse, Chickens and Pig And afterwards milked old Cow.
For Farmer must work, he never can s.h.i.+rk!
Today he is working, right now, right now!
Today he is working right now!
WONDERFUL-COW-THAT-NEVER-WAS!
All the essential points in this story were taken from the story of a four-year-old's about a horse. He enjoyed the nonsense in telling it.
Some of the four-year-old groups have appreciated the humor; some five-year-olds have not. Instead they have seemed confused.
WONDERFUL-COW-THAT-NEVER-WAS!
Once there was a wonderful cow,--only she never was! She always had been wonderful, ever since she was a baby calf. Her mother noticed it at once. She was born out in the pasture one sunny morning in June. As soon as she was born, she got up on her long, thin legs. She wobbled quite a little for she wasn't very strong. Then she went over to her mother and put her nose down to her mother's bag and took a drink of milk. This is what all the old cow's babies had always done so the old cow thought nothing of that. But when this wonderful last baby calf had drunk its breakfast, what do you suppose it did? It stood on its head! Now the old cow had never seen anything like this. It was most surprising! It frightened her. She called to it:
"Oh, my baby, baby calf, Your mother kindly begs, Please, _please_ get off your head And stand upon your legs!"
But the baby calf only mooed. And it smiled when it mooed which the old cow thought queer too. None of her other babies had smiled. Then the calf said:
"I'm a wonderful calf, And it makes me laugh Such wonderful things can I do!
I stand on my head Whenever I'm fed, And smile whenever I moo, I do, I smile whenever I moo!"
"Dear me!" thought the old mother cow. "I never saw or heard anything like this!"
But this was only the beginning. The baby calf kept on doing strange and wonderful things till at last everyone called her Wonderful-calf-that-never-was! And many people used to come to see her stand on her head whenever she was fed. She did other queer things too!
Once she pulled off the ear of another calf! And all she said was: "Poor little calf! You mustn't go in the pasture where there are other calves!" But the little calf who had lost its ear said, "Yes, I must!"
But after that Wonderful-calf-that-never-was was kept in the barn for a long time.
At last it was June again and she was a year old. Her horns had begun to grow. The old cow, her mother, had another baby. This new baby calf was just like other calves and not wonderful at all. The old cow was glad for Wonderful-cow-that-never-was worried her very much. For everything about her was queer. One day the calf who had lost the ear,--she was a young cow now,--took hold of the tail of Wonderful-young-cow-that-never-was and pulled it. And what do you suppose happened? The tail broke right off! All the cows were frightened. Whoever heard of a broken tail? But Wonderful-young-cow-that-never-was only mooed and when she mooed she always smiled. Then she said:
"I'm a wonderful cow And I don't know how Such wonderful things I do!
If I break my tail, I never fail To glue with a gra.s.shopper's goo, I do, I glue with a gra.s.shopper's goo!"
And so she did. She got a gra.s.shopper to give her some sticky stuff and she smeared it on the two ends of her broken tail and stuck them together. "And now it's as good as new," she said, "and now it's as good as new!"
Her horns grew and grew. She was very proud of them and was always trying to hook some one or gore another cow with them. But one day she went to the edge of the lake when it was very still. It wasn't wavy at all. And as she leaned over to drink, she saw herself in the water. My mercy! but she was shocked!
"My horns are straight!" she screamed, "and I want them curly!" She ran to the old mother cow and had what her mother called the "Krink-kranks."
She jumped up and down and bellowed: "My horns are straight and I want them curly!"
The old mother cow was giving her new baby some milk. It made her cross to hear Wonderful-cow-that-never-was having krink-kranks over her horns.
"Horns grow the way they grow!" she remarked crossly. "So what are you going to do about it?"
"Something!" answered the young cow. "I'm not Wonderful-cow-that-never-was for nothing!" And she stopped having krink-kranks and went off. She stayed away all day and when she did come back, her horns were curled up tight! And she was chewing and smiling and chewing and smiling.
"What have you done now?" gasped the old mother cow. "I never saw horns curled so crumply!"
The young cow smiled and said:
"I'm a wonderful cow And I don't know how Such wonderful things I do!
I curl my horn On the cob of a corn And smile whenever I chew, I do, I smile whenever I chew!"
"And here is the corn cob I curled them on," she said, opening her mouth. And sure enough, there was the corn cob!
Now Wonderful-cow-that-never-was got queerer and queerer until the farmer thought her a little _too_ queer. She was very proud of her crumpled horns and tried to hook everyone on them. Once she tore the farmer's coat trying to hook him. And once she _did_ toss him up. She watched him in the air and all she said was "He's up now, but he'll come down some time." And bang! So he did!
Finally one terrible day, they tied her tight and cut off her horns. She was never the same afterwards. She couldn't hook any more. "I don't care about being queer any more," she said to her mother. And she wasn't. She stopped standing on her head. She never pulled off another ear. She never broke her tail again and of course she never curled her horns again. Because she hadn't any! "After all," she said, "it's wonderful enough just to be a cow and have four stomachs and chew cud and give milk and have a baby each Spring!" And that's what she's doing now!
She's a wonderful cow, And anyhow She does a wonderful thing!
She wallows in mud, She chews her cud, And has a baby in Spring!
THINGS THAT LOVED THE LAKE
This story was worked out with a five-year-old boy. It is the result of his own summer experiences on a lake.
THINGS THAT LOVED THE LAKE
Once there was a little lake. And many things loved the little lake for its water was clear and smooth and blue when it was suns.h.i.+ny, and dark and wavy and cross-looking when it was rainy. Now one of the things that loved the little lake was a little fish. He was a slippery s.h.i.+ny little fish all covered with slippery s.h.i.+ny scales. He lived in the shadow of a big rock near a deep, dark, cool pool. And when his wide-open s.h.i.+ny eye saw a little fly fall on the top of the water, he would flip his slippery, s.h.i.+ny tail and wave his slippery, s.h.i.+ny fins and dart out and up and--snap! he'd have the fly inside him! Then like a s.h.i.+ny streak he'd quietly slip back to the cool, deep, dark pool.
[Ill.u.s.tration]
Another thing that loved the little lake was a spotted green frog. He too lived near the big rock. He would squat like a lump on the top in the sun, blinking his bright little eyes. Then splas.h.!.+ jump he would go, plump into the water. He'd keep his funny head with the little blinking, bright eyes above water while he'd kick his long, spotted, green legs and he'd swim across to another rock. At first he used to frighten the slippery s.h.i.+ny little fish when he came tumbling into the quiet water.
But the spotted green frog never did anything to hurt the little fish so the slippery s.h.i.+ny little fish didn't mind him after all. But at night what do you think the spotted green frog did? He squatted on the rock with his front feet toeing in, like this, and he looked up at the far-away white moon in the far-away dark sky, and then he swelled and he swelled and he swelled his throat, and then he opened his wide, wide mouth and out came a noise. Oh, such a noise! "K-K-K-Krink!!
K-K-K-Krank!!" All night the spotted frog swelled his throat and croaked at the moon.
Now another thing that loved the little lake was a beautiful wild duck.
The wild duck had beautiful green and brown feathers and on his head he had a little green top-knot. Every year he flew north from the warm south where he had been spending the winter. High up in the air he flew, leading many other beautiful wild ducks. He flew with his head stretched out and his feet tucked up close to his body and his strong wings flapping, flapping, flapping like great fans. And as he flew way up in the air his keen eye would see the little lake glistening down below.
"Quonk-quonk!" he would call. And the other wild ducks would answer, "Quonk-quonk-quonk!" And then they would swoop, right down to the little lake and they'd light right on the water. There they would sit, rocking on the little waves or swimming about with their red webbed feet. Oh, the wild ducks loved the little lake very much!
But not the slippery s.h.i.+ny fish, not the spotted green frog, not the beautiful wild duck loves the lake as much as some one else does. I don't believe any one else loves the little lake as much as does the little summer boy! Sometimes the little summer boy goes rowing on top of the lake. He leans way forward and stretches his oars way back, then he puts them into the water and pulls as hard as ever he can--splash--splash--splash--splash----! And the boat glides and slides right over the water! Sometimes,--and this he loves better still,--he stands on the rock in his red bathing suit. Then plump! he jumps right into the water! Sometimes he goes feetwards and sometimes he goes headwards and sometimes he turns a somersault in the air before he touches the water. And then away he goes moving his arms and kicking his legs almost like the spotted green frog. But the little fish when he hears this great thing come splas.h.i.+ng into the quiet water, he flips his slippery s.h.i.+ny tail and waves his slippery s.h.i.+ny fins and darts way out into the deep water where the little boy with the red bathing suit can't follow him. For to the little fish this little summer boy seems very queer, and very, _very_ noisy, and very, _very_, VERY enormous! And the spotted green frog too gets out of the way when the little boy comes racketing into the water. He hops, hops under the rocks into a safe little cave and from there he watches and blinks his bright little eyes.
But he never croaks then! The little summer boy knows the green frog is there and sometimes he peeks at him and thinks "I wish I could make my back legs go like yours!" For he's often seen the spotted green frog swim from rock to rock.
But the beautiful wild duck, he never saw the little summer boy. For long before the boy came to the little lake, the duck had left the lake far behind. Early one morning in Spring he flapped his strong wings and tucked his wet webbed feet up close to his body and stretched out his long neck and calling "Quonk-quonk!" he flapped away to the north.