"The stone-boat?" asked the Off Ox. "We don't mind it. Never mind doing our kind of work. Wouldn't like to pull the binder with its shining knives and whirling arms, for whoever does that has to walk fast and make sudden turns and stops. Wouldn't like being hitched to the carriage to carry the farmer's family to town. Wouldn't like to take care of the Sheep, like Collie, or to grow feathers like the Geese--but we can draw stone-boats and all sorts of heavy loads, if we do say it." The Red Calf, who was always running and kicking up his heels, said, "Oh, it's such slow work! I should think you'd feel that you would never reach the end of your journey." "We don't think about that," answered the Nigh Ox. "It doesn't pay. We used to, though. I remember the time when I wished myself a Swallow, flying a mile a minute, instead of step-step-stepping my way through life. My mother was a sensible Cow, and wore the bell in our herd. She cured me of that foolishness. She told me that Swallows had to fly one wing-beat at a time, and that dinners had to be eaten one mouthful at a time, and that nothing really worth while could be done in a minute. She said that if we were forever thinking how much work we had to do and how tiresome it was, we'd never enjoy life, and we wouldn't live long either. Lazy Oxen never do. That's another thing which doesn't pay." The Red Calf and the White Calf spoke together: "We will always be sensible. We will never lose our tempers. We will never be afraid to work. We will be fine and long-lived cattle." "Might you not better say you will _try_ to be sensible?" asked the Nigh Ox. "You know it is not always easy to do those things, and one has to begin over and over again." "Oh, no," they answered. "We know what we can do." "You might be mistaken," said the Oxen gently. "I am never mistaken," said the Red Calf. "Neither am I," said the White Calf. "Well, good-morning," called the Oxen, as they moved off. "We are going to talk with our sisters, the Cows." After they had gone, the pretty Black Calf spoke in her pleasant way: "It seems to me I shall be an old Cow before I can learn to be good and sensible like them, but I am going to try." "Pooh!" said the Red Calf. "It is easy enough to be sensible if you want to be--as easy as eating." "Yes," said the White Calf. "I shall never lose my temper again, now that I am sure it is foolish to do so." "Dear me!" said the pretty Black Calf. "How strong and good you must be. I can only keep on trying." "Pooh!" said the Red Calf again. Then he lowered his voice and spoke to her. "Move along," said he, "and let me stand beside you in the cubby while I chew my cud." "Don't you do it," cried the White Calf. "I want that place myself." [Illustration: THE RED CALF AND THE WHITE CALF.] "I guess not!" exclaimed the Red Calf. "I'll bunt you first." "Bunt away, then," said the White Calf, "but I'll have that place."