A Walk and a Drive Part 2

There was a black one, and a black and white one, and a red one, and another with red spots. We cannot find room for them all in the picture; but you will see the one which was drinking.

Rosy admired them very much, and wanted to go as near as she could that she might see them well; for although they were so very big and had such long legs, she was not a bit afraid of them. She never was afraid of anything when her papa was by, because he was so very strong--stronger than all the world she thought.

"Who made the cows, Rosy?" asked her papa, when she had looked at them a little while.

"G.o.d," said Rosy, softly; "G.o.d made everything, didn't he, papa? Why did he make the cows?" she asked, after thinking a minute.

"To give us good milk, such as you had yesterday, Rosy, and to make you and other little girls and boys fat and strong. Was not that very good of G.o.d!"

"Yes, papa," said Rosy, again.

"Then will you remember that, my little one, when you say, by and by, 'I thank G.o.d for my nice bread and milk'?"

Rosy said she would, and then she asked,--

"And do the pretty cows give us coffee, too, papa?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "And do the pretty cows give us coffee, too, papa."]

"No, no, my silly little Rosy; don't you recollect that we buy that at the grocer's shop? We must go some day and ask him to let you see it ground up to powder. The coffee comes from a long, long way off. It grows on a tree in a very hot country, and looks like little berries till they put it into a mill and turn a handle. Then the berries are ground up to powder, and we put some boiling water over the powder, and when it gets cool we drink it. Haven't you seen mamma pour it out into the cup and put some sugar and milk in for herself and papa?"

Rosy remembered now; but she had not taken much notice before, because she did not like coffee at all. She liked her nice milk much better; and so when she went away with her papa she called out,--

"Good by, dear cowies, and thank you very much for my nice milk."

Rosy wanted to walk round the other side where there was a very gentle, kind-looking cow, that was not in the water, because she thought that she would like to stroke her; but her papa told her to look at those two great horns. And he said that cows did not like little girls to take liberties with them unless they knew them, and that this cow did not know her, and might think her very saucy, and poke out her horns to teach her to keep a proper distance. If she did, he said he thought Rosy would not like that poke, for it might hurt her, so he advised her to keep quite out of the good cow's way.

Then she stood at a little distance to watch her drinking, and Rosy's papa said,--

"See how she enjoys it! Cows like to come here sometimes, like little girls; but French cows don't get out of their houses so often as English ones."

"Don't they, papa?" said Rosy. "Then I should think they must often wish to go to England."

Papa laughed, and said,--

"Perhaps they would wish it if they knew how their English cousins enjoy themselves; but I think they look pretty happy; don't you, Rosy?"

Rosy said,--

"Yes, papa; but how funnily the cow drinks! She puts her head into the water."

"And you think that if she were a polite cow she would not think of doing such a vulgar thing, but would wait till they gave her a gla.s.s; eh, Rosy?"

"She hasn't got any hands, papa," cried Rosy, "so she couldn't, I 'spose."

"No," said papa; "so I think that we must excuse and forgive the poor thing, until Rosy can teach her a better plan."

And Rosy trotted home by his side, thinking how much she should like to try drinking after the cow's fashion.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

ROSY'S VISIT TO THE HENS.

ROSY was very hungry when she got home to breakfast, for the fresh morning air had given her an appet.i.te.

Her mamma took off her hat and her little jacket, and said,--

"So, Rosy, you have brought me two more roses."

"But my roses don't smell, mamma," said Rosy, laughing and patting her own fat cheeks, as she always did when mamma said that. Then she made haste to scramble up on to her little chair, and pull her nice basin of bread and milk close to her. She looked at her papa after she had said her little grace, and said,--

"I didn't forget, papa."

Then she began to eat away as if she liked it very much; and when she had eaten a little, her mamma said,--

"Look here, Rosy."

And Rosy turned round and saw a whole spoonful of egg waiting for her to eat it. Mamma was holding it for her; and it looked so yellow and so delicious!

Rosy opened her mouth, but she did not take it all in at once. It was too good for that, and she thought it better to make it last a little.

But some of the yellow would stick on Rosy's lips; so mamma wiped it off, and then Rosy put her arms round her neck and kissed her, and said,--

"So nice, dear mamma."

Then mamma said,--

"At the end of the garden, Rosy, there lives the good hen that gave us this nice egg, and a great many other hens, and very fine c.o.c.ks too,--the c.o.c.ks that you heard crowing this morning. Shall we go and see them after breakfast?"

"O, yes, yes, yes!" cried Rosy, clapping her hands, "that will be fun.

I've almost done mine;" and the little girl made great haste to finish her bread and milk; but mamma said,--

"Ah, but not quite directly. I've not done my breakfast. If you have done yours, you had better go and see what nurse is doing, and ask her to get ready to come and hear papa read about Daniel in the lions' den."

Rosy did not mind waiting for that, for she was never tired of hearing that story. I dare say that some of her young friends know it too.

Her mamma got ready soon after, and they both went round to a part of the garden which Rosy had not seen before.

There they saw that one piece was railed off from all the rest, and that a hen-house was inside it.

Rosy's mamma opened a gate in the railing, and took her little girl into the enclosure amongst all the c.o.c.ks and hens.

The c.o.c.ks did not seem much to like this, and they both made a great crowing, and then marched off into the farthest corner, with a lot of hens after them.