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“Cows have a long tale. They wave it and it keeps there back cool, sometimes they wave it to keep off flies and other insecks. Cows cannot run as fast as a hoarse but if she is chasing you she seems to be running very fast. If she chases you pick up a tin can or pale and hit on it with a stone. The cow will then stampeed. Cows have four feet called hoofs. They are useful for walking this is all I know about cows.” “I am given to understand by the best fashion-plates, Mrs. Wopp, that the garment you term an ‘underwaist’ is now designated a casserole.” On reaching the hay-loft all were seated with the least possible degree of discomfort on upturned soap-boxes and apple-boxes. Betty covered both windows with blankets and lit a lantern. She had constructed a pasteboard box with a large square opening and now set the lantern in such a way that a picture placed at the opening in the box was illuminated so that all could see it clearly. Betty showed her pictures in a well arranged order and her lively imagination supplied the connecting links in the story her lantern “slides” unfolded..

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“You remember that story about a man who died for love of a girl because he knew he ought not to marry her? I thought that sort kind of noble, but you said there was nobler. Do you remember?” “By heck!” ejaculated Mr. Wopp who sat in the front seat beside his wife and Betty. Then he glanced hastily around to see if anyone had noticed his irreverent outburst. But no one had. They were all too intent on other matters. “I hope my breakfast won’t be quite so—” “Let me go, please!” he pleaded. “There’s a little girl, our refugee, over there, fainted, I think, perhaps—dead.”.