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Updated: May 26, 2025
Oh, I guess there was a dozen and a half of them big, nice mooley cows, with brown eyes and long tongues, and they were all chewing their cuds like gum, you know, and wondering why the farmer didn't come to drive them home to milk, for they hadn't heard him calling them, you see. "How are we ever going to drive them home?" asked Buddy of his sister.
"Oh, mother," he said, "she's fast to the post and not a hole knocked into her, and ain't her eyes black and soft as our mooley cow's and I found her before the General Little ran her down and I'm going to keep her always I found her isn't it lucky we have a cow?" What the boy said was rather mixed you could not parse it, but you could understand it.
If any boy showed a desire to become a statesman, I would say to him, "Young man, get married, buy a mooly cow, go to Sheboygan county, and start a cheese factory." Speaking of cows, did it ever occur to you, gentlemen, what a saving it would be to you if you should adopt mooley cows instead of horned cattle?
She wrote how anxious she was to hear from him and how cruel it was of him not to write to her real often; how she lay awake nights thinking about him down among those awful rebels; how she supposed that by this time he must be full of bullet-holes; and didn't he ge' hungry sometimes, and wasn't it about time for him to get a furlough? how it was just too mean for anything that those men down South had to get up a war; how proud she was of Si because he had 'listed, and how she watched the newspapers every day to find some thing about him; how she wondered how many rebels he had killed, and if he had captured any batteries yet she said she didn't quite know what batteries were, but she read a good deal about capturing 'em, and she supposed it was something all the soldiers did; how she hoped he wouldn't forget her, and she'd like to see how he looked, now that he was a real soldier, and her father had sold the old "mooley" cow, and Sally Perkins was engage to Jim Johnson, who had stayed at home, and as for herself she wouldn't have anybody but a soldier about the size of Si, and 'Squire Jones's son had been trying to shine up to her and cut Si out, but she sent him off with a flea in his ear.
If my boy showed a desire to become a statesman, I would say to him, "Young man, get married, buy a mooley cow, go to Sheboygan county, and start a cheese factory." Speaking of cows, did it ever occur to you, gentlemen, what a saving it would be to you if you should adopt mooley cows instead of horned cattle?
It takes at least three tons of hay and a large quantity of ground feed annually to keep a pair of horns fat, and what earthly use are they? Statistics show that there are annually killed 45,000 grangers by cattle with horns. You pass laws to muzzle dogs, because one in ten thousand goes mad, and yet more people are killed by cattle horns than by dogs. What the country needs is more mooley cows.
I save the rest, all right. Ole Mooley, she goin' have a calf purty queeck now. I got her in leetle shed by hog-pen. Looks like it storm, all right." "Felt like it, too." Billy Louise made an effort to get back into the old channels of thought. "We'll milk old Mooley, John; I feel as if I could live on cream and milk for the next five years.
"Why not?" asked Patsy, with startling abruptness, while a queer expression as of an inspiration stole over her bright face. "Chump!" said Beth, drily; "you know very well why not, Patsy Doyle. Mooley cows and the fourth estate don't intermingle, so to speak." "They can be made to, though," declared Patsy. "Why hasn't some one thought of it before? Uncle John girls!
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