Elihu Perkins looked at her sharply through his "specs."

"What do you think of her, neighbor Perkins?" asked the owner,
anxiously.

The cow doctor shifted a piece of tobacco from one cheek to the
other, and looked wise.

"I think the critter's nigh her end," he said, at last.

"Is she so bad as that?"

"Pears like it. She looks like Farmer Henderson's that died a while
ago. I couldn't save her."

"Save my cow, if you can. I don't know what I should do without
her."

"I'll do my best, but you mustn't blame me if I can't bring her
round. You see there's this about dumb critters that makes 'em
harder to cure than human bein's. They can't tell their symptoms,
nor how they feel; and that's why it's harder to be a cow doctor
than a doctor for humans. You've got to go by the looks, and looks
is deceivin'. If I could only ask the critter how she feels, and
where she feels worst, I might have some guide to go by. Not but
I've had my luck. There's more'n one of 'em I've saved, if I do
say it myself."

"I know you can save her if anyone can, Elihu," said Mr. Walton,
who appreciated the danger of the cow, and was anxious to have the