"If he is so far away your scolding will do no good, because he can't hear it," your Aunt Amy said, finding it difficult to prevent herself from actually laughing in the angry bird's face.
"Some of the other people on this farm can hear me, and thus know that I do not approve of such actions," Mrs. Goose replied sharply. "Since Mr. Crow began to write poetry about Young Teddy, the boy thinks he can chase us around whenever he pleases. He'll kill Mrs. Cow's baby, if he isn't careful."
"Do you know Mr. Crow?" your Aunt Amy asked in surprise, for every bird or animal she had met seemed to be on friendly terms with the old fellow who spent the greater portion of his time in the big oak tree near the pond.
"Of course I know him," Mrs. Goose replied as she ceased scolding and came nearer your Aunt Amy, while Mr. Gander sat down close at hand as if listening to what was said. "Teddy has been trying for nearly a week to use that poor calf as if the baby was a horse--that's what he's doing now, and Mr. Crow wrote some poetry about it. Of course old Mamma Speckle must run straight to Teddy Boy with it, and since then he has been carrying on worse than ever."
TEDDY AND THE CALF.
"Oh yes, I'll repeat it if you like; but I'd rather you didn't tell Teddy that you heard it, for he is already much too proud. This is the way it goes:
Young Ted was a rider bold,
Who never did things by half,
And so he hitched to his cart one day
A strong and frolicsome calf.
Away he went, and on behind
Came a troop of merry boys,
Who tossed their caps, and screamed aloud,
Till the woods rang with the noise.
But the steed was like his driver,--
He wouldn't do things by half,--
And never had Ted a drive like that
He had with his frolicsome calf.
