“Thank you,” said Ban-Ban. He did not pay as much attention to compliments as the cow did, because he had been praised ever since he had had his eyes open, and he could not help knowing how beautiful he was. “Don’t you think that you would rather stay with us, in Purrington, than to go farther, only to be again the slave of some man?”
The cow seemed to be struck by this way of putting the case; she no longer hesitated. Shifting her cud to the left cheek, the cheek on which a cow always chews when her mind is fully made up, Mrs. Brindle said, decidedly: “I am quite sure that I should. And I will!”
“Good!” cried Ban-Ban. “Follow me, then!”
Making his tail very stiffly erect to do honour to such an important occasion as was this one, when he was to lead into Purrington its supply of much needed milk, Ban-Ban wheeled around and trotted rapidly down
“The shout of welcome which all the Purrers of Purrington raised.”
the main street, followed by Mrs. Brindle, who looked more round-eyed than ever, as if she could not quite understand being adopted by a cat.
The shout of welcome which all the Purrers of Purrington raised as they espied Ban-Ban and his companion nearly lifted little Dolly Varden off her feet. But when she ran to the window and saw what was coming she raised her piping voice and cried: “Mamma, Mamma Bidelia! Come quick! Ban-Ban’s bringing home something awful, with horns! It’s bigger than men and looks crosser!”
Bidelia ran to the window.
“Why, that’s milk, my Furry-Softness!” she cried, joyfully.