Shall I 'scape from this horrible cow?
I will sit on the stile,
And continue to smile,
Which may soften the heart of the cow.'"
The old man was walking thoughtfully through the field, with his hands behind him, when the nervous cow saw him. She wasn't ordinarily a bad-natured cow, but she was mad just then. An aggravating fly had been biting her half the morning, and, just as she was drinking at the brook, a frog had jumped up with a cry and bitten her nose. These things had completely unsettled her nerves.
She was ready to run at anything, and the old man being the only living thing in sight, she plunged toward him.
"I WILL SIT ON THE STILE, AND CONTINUE TO SMILE."
What could he do? He was a short, stout old man, and could not run very fast, and, though he tried his best, he only just managed to reach the stile and plump down on it, all out of breath, as the cow neared him.
Then he suddenly remembered reading somewhere that if you looked right into an animal's eyes, it would run away from you.