there was a calf in the lot, and al took the tin pail in his hand and went out to feed it.

al thought it would be quite as glad to get its breakfast as the pigs were to get theirs.

but the calf did nothing of the kind. it had no horns as yet, but there were two knobs on its head which would soon grow up into sharp horns, and when al came out with the tin pail, the calf bent her head and gave the pail a butt with these hard bits of horns.

“well,” said al, “i can not force you to eat if you do not want to.”

so he went back to the house and set the pail down in the yard, and said to em, “i tried to feed the calf, but she would not eat, and now it is time for me to go off to my work.”

“would not eat?” said em. “i will see about that.” so she took up the tin pail and went out to the lot where the calf was tied.

em came up to where the calf was, gave her one or two pats on the head, and three strokes down the side, and called her all the pet names she could think of.

“now, my pet snow-drop,” she said, “here is a nice breakfast i have brought you, and i want you to eat it all, so that you can grow fat and strong. you will, won’t you? she was my own dear little pet calf so she was; and no one shall be cross to her or hurt her. here is milk, and bread, and all sorts of nice things; now come and eat.”

and what did that calf do but put her head in the pail and eat as if she would never get her fill. she licked, and licked, and licked the pail, while em stood by and laughed, and said to herself, “well, a calf is just like a child. when it will not eat, you must just coax it, and pet it, and not scold or use cross words or looks. it is strange that e-ven the dumb beast feels the force of a kind word.”