"Do bring your children along with you the next time you come to the pasture," the Muley Cow urged them. "I'm very fond of little ones."
The cowbirds tittered. They seemed to think there was a great joke somewhere.
"Our children are too small to leave home just yet," the fat person told the Muley Cow.
"The smaller they are the more I like them," the Muley Cow declared. "Won't you show me where your nests are? I'd love to see the little darlings cuddled in their beds."
The cowbirds stopped catching flies and looked uneasily at one another. The fat one, however, was somewhat bolder than the rest. He fluttered up and alighted right on the back of the Muley Cow.
"We don't take anybody to see our children until they leave the nests," he told the Muley Cow.
She knew, then, that the song sparrow had told her the truth.
"And I don't let cowbirds sit on my back—not after they're grown up!" she snapped. As she spoke, the Muley Cow fetched the pert gentleman a smart smack with her tail.
The blow caught him unawares and knocked him squawking upon the ground. At once his companions began to scold the Muley Cow. And so did he—as soon as he got his breath back. "You're a rough old thing!" he squalled.
"You're rascals—all of you!" cried the Muley Cow. "You can't fool me any longer. I know all about you. I wonder who named you cowbirds, for it's a deadly insult to me and all my family."