They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One of the little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was moving.
The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him.
Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the grass, still looking at him.
Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were next seen running toward it.
A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the time they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the arms of their mother!
“This is too dangerous a form of education,” she cried; “I had rather they went to school.”
“No!” they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way.
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST.
MRS. PETERKIN’S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of the three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon the subject of education.