“So you agree with Mr. Crow!” exclaimed the Muley Cow quickly.
“No’m!”
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” the Muley Cow replied. “Your tail is not like mine. It has no beautiful curl dangling at the end of it, like this one of mine.”
Mistah Mule walked up to the stone wall and laughed in his strange fashion.
“That ole Crow, he try to make trouble for me an’ you,” he informed the Muley Cow. “He say for me to tell you our tails is like enough to be twins. But I says, that ole black scamp better do his errands his own self. I has seen too many of his folkses down South, where I comes from, to do what he tell me. I a-goin’ do just what he don’t tell me!”
“Well! Well!” cried the Muley Cow. “You’re a person of some sense, after all. You surprise me, sir. I had a very poor opinion of you, when I heard that you had kicked Farmer Green.”
Mistah Mule looked very uneasy.
“I ain’t goin’ to do that no more,” he said. And he hung his head.
“You sent Johnnie Green flying, the first time he rode you,” the Muley Cow went on. “I hope you won’t do that again, either.”
“No’m!” Mistah Mule murmured.