heels, and scrapes along
in the dust?"

"The stone-boat?" asked the Off Ox. "We don't mind it. Never mind doing
our kind of work. Wouldn't like to pull the binder with its shining
knives and whirling arms, for whoever does that has to walk fast and
make sudden turns and stops. Wouldn't like being hitched to the carriage
to carry the farmer's family to town. Wouldn't like to take care of the
Sheep, like Collie, or to grow feathers like the Geese--but we can draw
stone-boats and all sorts of heavy loads, if we do say it."

The Red Calf, who was always running and kicking up his heels, said,
"Oh, it's such slow work! I should think you'd feel that you would never
reach the end of your journey."

"We don't think about that," answered the Nigh Ox. "It doesn't pay. We
used to, though. I remember the time when I wished myself a Swallow,
flying a mile a minute, instead of step-step-stepping my way through
life. My mother was a sensible Cow, and wore the bell in our herd. She
cured me of that foolishness. She told me that Swallows had to fly one
wing-beat at a time, and that dinners had to be eaten one mouthful at a
time, and that nothing really worth while could be done in a minute. She
said that if we were forever thinking how much work we had to do and
how tiresome it was, we'd never enjoy life, and we wouldn't live long
either. Lazy Oxen never do. That's another thing which doesn't pay."

The Red Calf and the White Calf spoke together: "We will always be
sensible. We will never lose our tempers. We will never be afraid to
work. We will be fine and long-lived cattle."

"Might you not better say you will _try_ to be sensible?" asked the Nigh
Ox. "You know it is not always easy to do those things, and one has to
begin over and over again."

"Oh, no," they answered. "We know what we can do."

"You might be mistaken," said the Oxen gently.

"I am never mistaken," said the Red Calf.

"Neither am I," said the White Calf.

"Well, good-morning," called the Oxen, as they moved off. "We are going
to talk with our sisters, the Cows."

After they had gone, the pretty Black Calf spoke in her pleasant way:
"It seems to me I shall be an old Cow before I can learn to be good and
sensible like them, but I am going to try."

"Pooh!" said the Red Calf. "It is easy enough to be sensible if you want
to be--as easy as eating."

"Yes," said the White Calf. "I shall never lose my temper again, now
that I am sure it is foolish to do s