David ran across to that kind, mild creature.
‘Oh, do knock the whole place down,’ he said. ‘They want to marry me, and it’s all so beastly. Butt at it, as you did at my luggage.’
‘Five—six,’ said Noah.
‘All right, dearie,’ said the cow, shaking bits of broken glass from her ears. ‘You just get behind the door, and I’ll see to them all. But you must promise not to go milking me again.’
‘Never, never,’ shrieked David. ‘But be quick; he’s counted six already.’
‘Seven—eight,’ said Noah.
The cow backed into the village street, and David saw her tail fly up with a spring. She put her head down, and came galloping towards the house, and he ran behind the door.
‘Nine—ten!’ said Noah. ‘Choose, or be chosen for.’
At that moment the cow’s head crashed into the wall below the window. Miss Muffet gave one faint scream, and said, ‘Spider, dear!’ Miss Bones whirled her ox-tail round her head like a sling, and, intending to hit the cow, hit Noah the most awful slap on his false whiskers, which fell off. The giraffe’s head went up the chimney with a pop and a shower of soot descended into the room.
‘Now, run, dearie,’ said the cow to David. ‘Run for your life. The whole lot of them will be after you.’