I don't know if Dad knew anything of mesmerism, but he used to stand for long intervals dumbly staring the old horse full in the eyes till in a commanding voice he would bid him, "Get up!" But Farmer lacked the patriotism of the back-block poets.

He was obdurate, and not once did he "awake," not to mention "arise".
This afternoon, as Dad approached his dumb patient, he suddenly put down the bucket of water which he was carrying and ran, shouting angrily.

A flock of crows flew away from Farmer and "cawed" from a tree close by.

Dad was excited, and when he saw that one of the animal's eyes was gone and a stream of blood trickled over its nose he sat down and hid his face in his big rough hands.
"CAW, CAW!" came from the tree.
Dad rose and looked up.
"CURSE you!" he hissed--"you black wretches of hell!" "CAW, CAW, CAW" He ran towards the tree as though he would hurl it to the ground, and away flew the crows.
Joe arrived.
"W-w-wuz they at him, Dad ?" Dad turned on him, trembling with rage.
"Oh, YOU son of the Devil!" he commenced.

"YOU worthless pup, you! Look there! Do you see that ?" (He pointed to the horse.) "Did n't I tell you to mind him?
Did n'-- " "Yes," snivelled Joe; "but Anderson's dog had a k-k-k-angaroo bailed up." "DAMN you, be off out of this!" And Dad aimed a block of wood at Joe which struck him on the back as he made away.