[Illustration]
A
CALIFORNIA
POPPY
It would doubtless be the proper thing for me to begin by quoting
Stevenson:
"The friendly cow, all red and white,
I love with all my heart," etc.
but I'd rather not. In the first place she wasn't, and in the second
place I didn't. The only thing about it that fits is the color scheme;
Poppy was a red-and-white cow, but I'd rather not. In the first place
she wasn't, and in the second place I didn't. The only thing about it
that fits is the color scheme; Poppy was a red-and-white cow, or rather
a kind of strawberry roan. Perhaps she didn't like being inherited (she
came to us with "The Smiling Hill-Top"), or maybe she was lonely on the
hillside and felt that it was too far from town. Almost all the natives
of the village feel that way; or perhaps she took one of those aversions
to me that aren't founded on anything in particular. At any rate, I
never saw any expression but resentment in her eye, so that no warm
friendship ever grew up between us.
The only other cow we ever boarded--I use the word advisedly--did not
feel any more drawn to me than Poppy. Evidently I am not the type that
cows entwine their affections about.
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