Miss Laura gave one cry of pity, then with a very pale face she dropped her dress, and seizing a little penknife from her pocket, she hacked at the rope that tied the cow to the manger, and cut it so that the cow could lie down.

The first thing the poor cow did was to lick her calf, but it was quite dead.

I used to think Jenkins' cows were thin enough, but he never had one that looked like this.

Her head was like the head of a skeleton, and her eyes had such a famished look, that I turned away, sick at heart, to think that she had suffered so.
When the cow lay down, the moaning noise stopped, for she had been making it.

Miss Laura ran outdoors, snatched a handful of grass and took it in to her.