uoted from Jeremy Belknap's History of New Hampshire,
Chapter I.]

THE DENMARK CATTLE.

The thread dropped from the spinning wheel as Elizabeth earnestly leaned
forward in the firelight, that late afternoon of May in 1643.

"Uncle Richard, is there any school for boys--"

"Sh! here comes your father!" whispered her uncle.

Francis Norton, absorbed in thought, entered the large east room of Mason
Manor house and wandered to the window, where he scanned the ocean
distance for a sail. Elizabeth silently picked up her thread.

"Things have become serious, Richard," exclaimed Norton. "Since Mason's
death, few supplies have come from England, as you know, and the amounts
due the workers here have long been unpaid. I am here to manage the Mason
affairs and consequently get the blame, yet my own interests are at
stake. My boy must be educated--"

"Oh, I say, Father, six cows are missing!" It was a rugged, healthy boy
who burst into the room. "They have wandered off somewhere, and now it's
milking time. Shall I hunt them up?"

Norton continued his conversation, quite ignoring his son, who
respectfully awaited his father's reply.

"There is a school at Cambridge, near Boston. The only one I know of in
New England. A Charlestown minister, John Harvard, left eight hundred
pounds for it a few years ago--"

"Don't lose those cows, Francis," interrupted his brother-in-law. "They
are a valuable lot, a Denmark breed sent over by Mason, while I was a
boy."

Jacob then caught a nod of assent from his father and cast a quick glance
at his sister, Elizabeth, whose wheel was again whirring busily. She
jumped to her feet.

"May I go too, father?" she cried.

He gave his consent absent-mindedly and then turned to the subject in
question.

Meantime the girl and boy chased off together.

"I believe the cows have wandered through the woods to the salt-marsh,"
declared Elizabeth; so they turned in that direction, following a crooked
path for a long time. At last a breaking of the bushes opened a way to
the discovery of five of the cows. The children were pushing on for the
sixth, when a distant shout was heard on the opposite shore of the marshy
stream. There in the mud and mire stood a horse and rider. Each step
plunged them deeper and brought them nearer to the stream.

"Is this the ford?" the stranger called.

Jacob at once saw he had mistaken a cow-path for a trail.

"Back, quick!" cried the frightened children.