Then I laid them in little piles round under the trees, and turned out my cows.

They started for the oaks fust thing, for they had got a habit of going there as soon as they were turned to parster in the morning.

I stood by the bars and watched to see what would happen." Here a still broader smile overspread Uncle Solon's face.

"Within ten minutes I saw all them cows going lickety-split for the brook on the lower side o' the parster, and some of 'em were in such a hurry that they had their tails right up straight in the air! "Ef you will believe it," Uncle Solon concluded, "not one of them cows teched an oak acorn afterward." Another laugh went round; but an interruption occurred.

A good lady from the city, who was spending the summer at a farmhouse near by, rose in indignation and made herself heard.
"I think that was a very cruel thing to do!" she cried.