What kind of a parster are them cows runnin' in ?" Somewhat abashed, I explained, and described the pasture at the old Squire's.
"How long ago did the milk begin to be bitter ?" "About three weeks ago." "Any red oak in that parster ?" asked Uncle Solon.
"Yes," I said.

"Lots of red oaks, all round the borders of the woods." "Wal, now, 'tis an acorn year," said Uncle Solon, reflectively.

"I dunno, but ye all know how bitter a red-oak acorn is.

I shouldn't wonder a mite ef your cows had taken to eatin' them oak acorns.

Critters will, sometimes.