By LOUIS ARUNDEL
[CHAPTER I]
UP A TREE
“What a funny cow that is, Josh! Look at the silly thing poking her bally old horns in the ground, and throwing the dirt up. Say, did you ever see anything like that? Why, the poor beast must be sick, Josh!”
“Cow? Great Jupiter! Buster, you silly, don’t you know a bull when you see one?”
“Oh, dear! and just think of me having the nerve to put on my nice red sweater this morning, because this Michigan air was so nippy. I don’t believe bulls like red things, do they, Josh?”
“They sure don’t. And then we had to cut across this field here, to save a few steps. He’s looking at us right now; we’ll have to run for it, Buster!”
The fat boy, who seemed to fully merit this name, set down the bucket of fresh milk he had been carrying, and groaned dismally.