Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1916-02-15
An Open letter to Bossy-cow.


to you than have been able to tell, face
to face. There has been so much to do
around the farm these summer days,
that there has been no opportunity to
adequately convey my deep and profound
appreciation.
When took up this old, rundown
farm, it was toss-up as to whether I'd
make q 60 OF it. A man can't start fight
ing soil, and hard times, and stump-hli-
ed pasture land when he's three-fourths
hospital ward and one-fourth working
trim. But, early in the great game,
bile the surrounding hills were still
white with snow and the CRATE fire In
the little front sitting-room was the only
welcome thing in my world, you came to
the farm.
Somehow, affairs changed from the 60
off. took an awful big liking to you,
Bossy, COW. You were pal, "a compan-
ion,-a mild-eyed, quiet, restful friend
during those struggling winter days. |
guess couldn't have gotten on without
you, Bossy. Remember the opening of
the weather-beaten, ramshackle barn
door at six, those sharp, cutting a. ms?
As my eyes grew accustomed to the dim
and uncertain lighi, / could see your
big, patient, wondering, grey eyes peer
ing out at me, and ! could hear the
crunch, crunch of the wet hay in your
clean, white mouth and you paved a
wee bit, for you knew from the peck
measure under my arm that l came on Q
mission of good cheer. We fused around
good deal-you and me,-out there in
that big, lonely, neglected barn. How
you'd watch me, as with snow banking
up against the one small window and
powdering in at the door, I set about
cleaning up things and patching frag-
ments of harness and trying to make
something out of nothing, as is q poor
mans way of fighting time.
And finally spring came, Bossy,-
spring with the little patch Of apple and
peach trees doing tolerably well as they
sprayed out into big pink and white
plumes of fragrant color. And birds be-
gan 10 nest in the old barn and green
splotches showed themselves out yoDder
10 the meadows and pasture land and
workin' fields, and God Himself visited
us at dawn one fine, clean day, to scatter
violets through the dead leaves down by
the spring house. Yes,-spring, Bossy,
and seeds and hopes were planted, and
rbe soil began 10 bulge with the wonder
of the great miracle of eternal life. We
began to put little money in the bank
at the village,-just penny or so,-but
.it meant the beginning.
Did you shelp2 OF course you did,
Bossy. The extra milk and butter
e l. L. D,,t - hor
that, t,-your being there at the start. 1t
meant something to talk to and live for,
and pet, and love, and fraterDize with In
the midst of bitter loneliness. 1t meant a
living, breathing thing Just across
the lot to the barn. And then, after
while, when the woman came, the wife,
who was TO share that grim and unre-
lsuting burden, both of US loved you 10
the way that old folks love little chill
dren.
Bossy-cow, do you remember when
your baby came into the life of the
farms Do you remember all four Of US
down the lane in the sunlight, and those
unsteady legs of the newborn, az it
nestled up close to you all white and
red brown and beautiful? Prosperity
bloomed with the clover and another
springs dogwood. There were more
and more Bossy COWS, and glistening
silo, and a dairy house, and rows and
rows of spotless milk cans beneath the
cool trees waiting for delivery.
But our memory of you is sweetest as
we saw You under the apple trees, knee
deep in fragrant grass, during those
long, sleepy, sun shot, summer after
moons. You busy old muncher, you.
A guild of clover makes you happy,
doesn't it? And what a maternal ex-
preston you wear these days-just as If
your work was about over and you had
decided to devote your declining days to
alfalfa, the choicest ensilage, and the oc.
casional sugar-lumps certain barefoot
boy snesks from the table for you. It's
pretty nice out there under the apple
trees, I'll admit-wouldn't mind loaf
myself.
But I'm grateful, Bossy-that's what !
started out to say, that's what wanted
you to know. The sight of you nibbling
at the clover this morning brought back
the earlier, lonelier years when you sort
of made it possible for me to keep on
to now. Bossy, you're more than COW.
you're a pal!-W. Livingston Larned in
Hoard 3 Dairyman.