"fine frenzy."
The frenzied roll did not mean anything, they used to assure Elisha; but
if it didn't, it was an awful pity she had to do it, Rebecca thought;
and Mrs. Baxter agreed. To have an expression of eye that meant murder,
and yet to be a perfectly virtuous and well-meaning animal, this was a
calamity indeed.

Mrs. Baxter was looking at the sun one evening as it dropped like a ball
of red fire into Wilkins's woods, when the Little Prophet passed.

"It's the twenty-ninth night," he called joyously.

"I am so glad," she answered, for she had often feared some accident
might prevent his claiming the promised reward. "Then tomorrow Buttercup
will be your own cow?"

"I guess so. That's what Mr. Came said. He's off to Acreville now, but
he'll be home tonight, and father's going to send my new hat by him.
When Buttercup's my own cow I wish I could change her name and call her
Red Rover, but p'r'aps her mother wouldn't like it. When she b'longs to
me, mebbe I won't be so fraid of gettin' hooked and scrunched, because
she'll know she's mine, and she'll go better. I haven't let her get
snarled up in the rope one single time, and I don't show I'm afraid, do
I?"

"I should never suspect it for an instant," said Mrs. Baxter
encouragingly. "I've often envied you your bold, brave look!"

Elisha appeared distinctly pleased. "I haven't cried, either, when she's
dragged me over the pasture bars and peeled my legs. Bill Petes's little
brother Charlie says he ain't afraid of anything, not even bears. He
says he would walk right up close and cuff em if they dared to yip;
but I ain't like that! He ain't scared of elephants or tigers or lions
either; he says they're all the same as frogs or chickens to him!"

Rebecca told her Aunt Miranda that evening that it was the Prophet's
twenty-ninth night, and that the big red cow was to be his on the
morrow.

"Well, I hope it'll turn out that way," she said. "But I ain't a mite
sure that Cassius Came will give up that cow when it comes to the point.
It won't be the first time he's tried to crawl out of a bargain with
folks a good deal bigger than Lisha, for he's terrible close, Cassius
is. To be sure he's stiff in his joints and he's glad enough to have
a boy to take the cow to the pasture in summer time, but he always has
hired help when it comes harvestin'. So Lisha'll be no use from this
on; and I dare say the cow is Abner Simpson's anyway. If you want a walk
tonight, I wish you'd