milker. When Judge Twiddler got her home, he asked his hired man,
Mooney, if he knew how to milk a cow, and Mooney said of course he
did. The animal, therefore, was consigned to Mooney's care. On the
next day, however, Mooney came into the house to see the judge, and he
said,

"Judge, that man cheated you in that cow. Why, she's the awfullest old
beast that ever stood on four legs Dry as punk; hasn't got a drop of
milk in her. That's a positive fact. I've been trying to milk her for
three or four hours, and can't get a drop. Might as well attempt to
milk a clothes-horse. Regular fraud!"

"This is very extraordinary," exclaimed the judge.

"Yes, sir; and she's wicked. I never saw such a disposition in a cow.
Why, while I was working with her she kicked like a flint-lock musket;
butted and rared around. I'd rather fool with a tiger than with a cow
like that."

So the judge drove over to the Rising Sun to see Smith about it; and
when he complained that Smith had sold him a worthless and vicious
beast, and a dry cow at that, Smith said there must be some mistake
about it. He agreed to go back with the judge and investigate the
matter. When they reached the judge's stable, Mooney was not about,
but Smith descended from the wagon, approached the cow, and, to
the astonishment of the judge, milked her without the slightest
difficulty, the cow meantime remaining perfectly quiet, and even
breaking out now and then into what the judge thought looked like
smiles of satisfaction. And then the judge went out to hunt up his
hired man. He said to him,