THE ENCHANTED COW
For some reason, not altogether clear, there was no comment for a time after the Farmer had finished his account of the affair of Jason and the girl and the Southdown sheep. Perhaps it was because of the grotesqueness of the idea that a man working so faithfully for and so dreaming of his love—a practical man—could have left absolute possession of her to the unreal, while making his hobby at hand the real. The silence was broken by the Young Lady:
"That is very strange life history, it seems to me. How could any man, a real man, forget the girl he cared for in such a way? It seems all wicked and unnatural."
"But, my dear young lady," explained the Professor, banteringly ponderous, "he did not forget her. In fact, from the account he appears to have been a most devoted lover. What he forgot was time. Besides," he continued, "taking the broader point of view, how much better it is for all of us that, in one region at least, we have better mutton than that Jason should have raised a family!"
"Bother the mutton!" was the indignant and somewhat irreverent answer, and then the Colonel intervened:
"My dear Miss," he explained ingratiatingly, "I am confident that it is neither the Professor's lack of heart nor sympathy nor gallantry that has spoken, but, instead, his superior and appreciative judgment in the matter of mutton. It may be that he is braver than some of us. However, it doesn't matter, because your sensibilities are going to be soothed and fed on caramels just now. I am most confident of that, since I am about to commandeer the Poet. Mr. Poet, there is no alternative."
There is something anomalous about the successful modern poets. They are usually disguised as citizens. They do not have shaven faces and long hair and another world expression upon their countenances. Sometimes they have even a stubby mustache and a bad look. This particular poet chanced to be good-looking, but that proves nothing. He responded easily enough:
"Vocalism is difficult to me. I'd rather write this out. I can tell you a story, though, of the region where, it is said, were sowed the Dragon's Teeth from which sprang the men who later owned the Eastern Hemisphere. The story of the Enchanted Cow has the merit that it is true."
THE ENCHANTED COW
It is odd how often when from some legendary source a fairy story comes, we find fact mixed with the fancy. This tale, for instance, might just as well be called "Single Hoof and Double Hoof" or the "Wild Ride for Caviare," as to be named "The Enchanted Cow." Certainly every one should know about caviare, and why some beasts have split hoofs and some round, unyielding ones, but that enchantment should have anything to do with it is curious.