And she made such a large pie that it took the horse forty 'leven bites to eat it.
So everything came out all right, you see. And if the postman doesn't try to slip a letter through the slot in the baby's penny bank, and make the five cent piece jump over the dollar bill, I'll tell you next about Uncle Wiggily and the cow.
[STORY XXIV]
UNCLE WIGGILY AND THE COW
This is a story about Uncle Wiggily and the cow. Not the cow with the crumpled horn, nor yet the one that jumped over the moon, when the dish ran away with the spoon.
This was a sort of a red cow which ate green grass and gave white milk that was churned into yellow butter to be eaten on brown bread. There is no use asking me about all those colors for I don't know—nobody knows. They're just there, and that's all there is about it.
Now for the story.
One day the bunny rabbit gentleman was hopping over the fields and through the woods on his way to the store for Nurse Jane Fuzzy Wuzzy. He was going to get his muskrat lady housekeeper a jug of molasses so Nurse Jane might make a cake.
Uncle Wiggily hopped on and on, wondering if he would have an adventure that day, and he was thinking how good the molasses cake would taste when, all of a sudden, down in a field he saw a red cow. Not exactly red like a rose, you understand, or red like a barn, but still somewhat between those colors—a brownish-red, I suppose it would be called.
"Moo! Moo! Moo!" called the cow, in such mournful tones that Uncle Wiggily right away said: