“Oh, no,” replied Punch. “I am tired of hearing him tell the same ones over and over again to the different animals that call. You two tell stories instead.”
“But we do not know any interesting ones!” they objected.
“Go ahead, Punch, and tell them about the time Grandfather went up in a hydroplane over the city of Rio de Janeiro in South America,” urged Judy.
“Yes, do, do! That will be most exciting!” they all exclaimed.
So Punch began and their eyes were almost popping out of their heads at the thrilling experiences he was relating when they were nearly frightened out of their skins by a big cross dog running around the barn and suddenly appearing before them. For a moment he was as much surprised as they, for he had just come in with a farmer and was exploring things, as he had never been on this farm before. But in a minute he recovered himself and with a bark and a leap he landed in their midst. Such a hurrying and a scurrying as there was! Judy forgot she was ill and tried to climb up the haystack, steep as it was, but fell over backward, landing on the dog, frightening one as much as the other for a moment. On seeing the dog standing beside Judy, Punch pitched on him, though he was afraid of big dogs. But he had been taught he must always protect Judy, as she was a girl. Now Punch had short baby horns, but they could hurt, and the first thing this great dog knew, two sharp horns were running into his side. He turned with a snarl, ready to bite whatever it was that was hurting him so, when lo! at that second a red cow with long, sharp horns came around the corner of the barn and seeing Punch about to be attacked by a strange dog, she gave one jump forward and the next thing that dog knew, he was going up in the air at the rate of thirty-five miles an hour. He thought he was never coming down, but at last he did, though to his dismay he landed on top of a shed.
One of the little white calves that had been listening to Punch’s story was so panic-stricken that she fled, but instead of keeping her eyes open to see where she was going, she shut them tight. The consequence was she fell headfirst into a tub of red dye and when she stood up she was no longer a snow-white calf but a brilliant red one.
Another calf was so frightened that she ran straight into the farmhouse kitchen and fell down the cellar stairs. The cook, who heard the commotion, came to see who was stamping around on her freshly scrubbed floor. But she saw no one, though she did hear a groan of pain down in the cellar.
“Who is there?” she called.
No answer—just a groan came from below.