There were not more than three cows, all told. But when the boy came in,
there was such a bellowing and such a kick-up, that one might easily
have believed that there were at least thirty.

"Moo, moo, moo," bellowed Mayrose. "It is well there is such a thing as
justice in this world."

"Moo, moo, moo," sang the three of them in unison. He couldn't hear what
they said, for each one tried to out-bellow the others.

The boy wanted to ask after the elf, but he couldn't make himself heard
because the cows were in full uproar. They carried on as they used to do
when he let a strange dog in on them. They kicked with their hind legs,
shook their necks, stretched their heads, and measured the distance with
their horns.

"Come here, you!" said Mayrose, "and you'll get a kick that you won't
forget in a hurry!"

"Come here," said Gold Lily, "and you shall dance on my horns!"

"Come here, and you shall taste how it felt when you threw your wooden
shoes at me, as you did last summer!" bawled Star.

"Come here, and you shall be repaid for that wasp you let loose in my
ear!" growled Gold Lily.

Mayrose was the oldest and the wisest of them, and she was the very
maddest. "Come here!" said she, "that I may pay you back for the many
times that you have jerked the milk pail away from your mother; and for