The new minister's wife was sitting under the shade of her great maple1 early one morning, when she first saw the Little Prophet. A tiny figure came down the grass-grown road leading a cow by a rope. If it had been a small boy and a small cow, a middle-sized boy and an ordinary cow, or a grown man and a big cow, she might not have noticed them; but it was the combination of an infinitesimal boy and a huge cow that attracted her attention. She could not guess the child's years, she only knew that he was small for his age, whatever it was.
The cow was a dark red beast with a crumpled3 horn, a white star on her forehead, and a large surprised sort of eye. She had, of course, two eyes, and both were surprised, but the left one had an added hint of amazement4 in it by virtue5 of a few white hairs lurking6 accidentally in the centre of the eyebrow7.
The boy had a thin sensitive face and curtly8 brown hair, short trousers patched on both knees, and a ragged9 straw hat on the back of his head. He pattered along behind the cow, sometimes holding the rope with both hands, and getting over the ground in a jerky way, as the animal left him no time to think of a smooth path for bare feet.
The Came pasture was a good half-mile distant, and the cow seemed in no hurry to reach it; accordingly she forsook10 the road now and then, and rambled11 in the hollows, where the grass was sweeter to her way of thinking. She started on one of these exploring expeditions just as she passed the minister's great maple, and gave Mrs. Baxter time to call out to the little fellow, “Is that your cow?”
Elisha blushed and smiled, and tried to speak modestly, but there was a quiver of pride in his voice as he answered suggestively:
“It's—nearly my cow.”
“How is that?” asked Mrs. Baxter.
“Why, Mr. Came says when I drive her twenty-nine more times to pasture thout her gettin' her foot over the rope or thout my bein' afraid, she's goin' to be my truly cow. Are you fraid of cows?”
“Ye-e-es,” Mrs. Baxter confessed, “I am, just a little. You see, I am nothing but a woman, and boys can't understand how we feel about cows.”
“I can! They're awful big things, aren't they?”
“Perfectly12 enormous! I've always thought a cow coming towards you one of the biggest things in the world.”
“Yes; me, too. Don't let's think about it. Do they hook people so very often?”
“No indeed, in fact one scarcely ever hears of such a case.”
“Yes, but you are the driver; you mustn't let them do that; you are a free-will boy, and they are nothing but cows.”
“I know; but p'raps there is free-will cows, and if they just WOULD do it you couldn't help being scrunched14, for you mustn't let go of the rope nor run, Mr. Came says.
“No, of course that would never do.”
“Where you used to live did all the cows go down into the boggy15 places when you drove em to pasture, or did some walk in the road?”
“There weren't any cows or any pastures where I used to live; that's what makes me so foolish; why does your cow need a rope?”
“She don't like to go to pasture, Mr. Came says. Sometimes she'd druther stay to home, and so when she gets part way she turns round and comes backwards16.”
“Dear me!” thought Mrs. Baxter, “what becomes of this boy-mite17 if the cow has a spell of going backwards?—Do you like to drive her?” she asked.
“N-no, not erzackly; but you see, it'll be my cow if I drive her twenty-nine more times thout her gettin' her foot over the rope and thout my bein' afraid,” and a beaming smile gave a transient brightness to his harassed18 little face. “Will she feed in the ditch much longer?” he asked. “Shall I say Hurrap'? That's what Mr. Came says—HURRAP!' like that, and it means to hurry up.”
It was rather a feeble warning that he sounded and the cow fed on peacefully. The little fellow looked up at the minister's wife confidingly19, and then glanced back at the farm to see if Cassius Came were watching the progress of events.
“What shall we do next?” he asked.
Mrs. Baxter delighted in that warm, cosy20 little 'WE;' it took her into the firm so pleasantly. She was a weak prop2 indeed when it came to cows, but all the courage in her soul rose to arms when Elisha said, “What shall WE do next?” She became alert, ingenious, strong, on the instant.
“What is the cow's name?” she asked, sitting up straight in the swing-chair.
“Buttercup; but she don't seem to know it very well. She ain't a mite like a buttercup.”
“Never mind; you must shout 'Buttercup!' at the top of your voice, and twitch21 the rope HARD; then I'll call, 'Hurrap!' with all my might at the same moment. And if she starts quickly we mustn't run nor seem frightened!”
They did this; it worked to a charm, and Mrs. Baxter looked affectionately after her Little Prophet as the cow pulled him down Tory Hill.
The lovely August days wore on. Rebecca was often at the parsonage and saw Elisha frequently, but Buttercup was seldom present at their interviews, as the boy now drove her to the pasture very early in the morning, the journey thither22 being one of considerable length and her method of reaching the goal being exceedingly roundabout.
Mr. Came had pointed23 out the necessity of getting her into the pasture at least a few minutes before she had to be taken out again at night, and though Rebecca didn't like Mr. Came, she saw the common sense of this remark. Sometimes Mrs. Baxter and Rebecca caught a glimpse of the two at sundown, as they returned from the pasture to the twilight24 milking, Buttercup chewing her peaceful cud, her soft white bag of milk hanging full, her surprised eye rolling in its accustomed “fine frenzy25.” The frenzied26 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 virtuous27 and well-meaning animal, this was a calamity28 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.
“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 snarled30 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 cuff31 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 joints32 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 go up there and ask Mis' Came if she'll lend me an' your Aunt Jane half her yeast-cake. Tell her we'll pay it back when we get ours a Saturday. Don't you want to take Thirza Meserve with you? She's alone as usual while Huldy's entertainin' beaux on the side porch. Don't stay too long at the parsonage!”
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1
maple
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| n.槭树，枫树，槭木 | |
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prop
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| vt.支撑；n.支柱，支撑物；支持者，靠山 | |
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crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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4
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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5
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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6
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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7
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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8
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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9
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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10
forsook
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| forsake的过去式 | |
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11
rambled
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的过去式和过去分词 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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12
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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13
scrunch
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| v.压，挤压；扭曲（面部） | |
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14
scrunched
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| v.发出喀嚓声( scrunch的过去式和过去分词 )；蜷缩；压；挤压 | |
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15
boggy
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| adj.沼泽多的 | |
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16
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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17
mite
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| n.极小的东西；小铜币 | |
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18
harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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confidingly
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| adv.信任地 | |
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cosy
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| adj.温暖而舒适的，安逸的 | |
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twitch
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| v.急拉，抽动，痉挛，抽搐；n.扯，阵痛，痉挛 | |
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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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29
joyously
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| ad.快乐地, 高兴地 | |
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30
snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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31
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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32
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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