Again he settled himself into his place in as businesslike a way as a farm lad would who was accustomed to the cow-shed, but the moment he began the cow gave her tail a swing, lifted her leg, and planted it in the bucket, holding it down on the deck.
“Pail’s full,” cried Archy; and the men yelled with delight, their officer vainly trying to control his own mirth as Dick began to pat and apostrophise the cow.
“Coom, coom! Coosh, cow, then,” he said soothingly. “Tak’ thy leg oot o’ the boocket, my bairn;” and to the astonishment of all present the cow lifted her leg and set it down again on deck.
“Well done, my lad,” cried the lieutenant. “Now, then, look sharp with the milk.”
Dick sighed, wiped his hands down the sides of his breeches, and began once more, but at the first touch of the big strong hands accustomed to handle capstan-bars and haul ropes, the cow gave a more vigorous kick than ever; away flew the bucket, and over went Dick on his back.
He sprung up angrily now in the midst of the laughter, and touched his forehead to his commanding officer.
“It arn’t no good, sir; she’s a beef cow, and not a milker.”
“You don’t know your business, my lad,” said the lieutenant.
“But she’s such a savage one, sir. Don’t go anigh her, sir.”
“Nonsense!” said the lieutenant, going up to the cow, patting her and handling her ears and horns; to all of which attentions the animal submitted calmly enough, blinking her eyes, and gently swinging her tail.