The Ohio Democrat. (Logan, O. [Ohio]) 1886-1906, 1891-12-12
THE TOWN COW.
She Tries in Vain to Remember Sc Desc
late Day In All Her Various Past.

oho ATleb III VAN TO henemDer &c Desc
late Day I'm All Her Various Past.
The town cowl That Is the most des
olate fragment of tho brute creation.
Look at Brindle standing alone ovei
there in the center of n vacant lot, {
tangled rope around her horns tether
ing her to a stubbed wooden stake thai
a small boy has driven in the ground
She is led out there every morning anc
left imprisoned and unattended til
nightfall. The woman says: Faster
her in good place, Johnny" And
Johnny says "Yes'm," and gives the
rope n jerk
There isn't good place in the prairie
There never was, from May till Novem
Der. Along in June there is fairly good
picking just across the sidewalk about
the cutters in the unpaved street, but
the policeman won't have Brindle there
He says If he sees her there again he
will take her to the pound. He did take
Widow Mellaney's COW to the pound
and it cost So to get her out again.
Brindle is fed a stomach souring feed
grain with all the strength diverted
into beer--and is expected to keep the
family in milk and butter The hay is
like fence wire. The roof is the sky.
In the winter they put her in the coal
shed, and the chickens fly up on heI
back and roost there. 1t is colder in
side than it is out. The floor is harder
than the frozen ground. And when the
boys beat her she cannot get away.
Brindle stands there in the middle o1
the black prairie, the November rain
driving chilly arrows through her. the
icy wind whistling viciously across the
naked ground. Brindle remem bers an
other home. She remembers the time
she came to the mill farm her calf by
her side. and they turned her into the
woods pasture. She struck her hoof or
the bars as she clambered over; and she
thinks now she wishes it had broken
her leg, as they would have killed her.
Her calf ran ahead of her past the
tangled willow, over the hill where the
great trees grew; into the low ground
beyond, where the grass was green, and
sweet and high; where the ground was
soft and cool and moist all day.
She remembers how they drove he1
up at night, and after the calf had gone
away to run races with dozen others,
how she stood in the brook when the
| flies were bad and listened to that
strange machine in the meadow. And
after time she was put in the meadow
herself, where the new clover was Just
springing up-clover that kept juicy
and green till the snow came and GOV.
cred it.
Then they put her into stable with
strawstack all along the weather
side, so that never breath of winter
blew into the barn. She stood there
through the good short days knee deep
in straw, with manger of hay before
her and box full of chop feed at night.
Then was when she gave milk-and
was glad to give it. Then was when
she grew large, her life was so filed
with content, till man came along
and drove her away and crowded her
into carload of others, with infinite
cursing and many a painful blow.
Then that terrible ride in the odious
crowd, and the worse arrival in a more
pitiful yard And the leading away OF
half dozen because they gave milk,
and the selling to Johnny's father
Old Brindle stands out there on the
prairie swallows her cud, and thinks OF
the chorus of blaclkbirds in the trees
on the perfumed wind that came across
the wood, and the perfect luxury OF
freedom in field, with a bed in the
shade and a drink in the brook, and
abundance of food from morning till
night She will never see it again, and
she wishes Johnny would forget her
and leave her to starve. Chicago Her.
a1d