He said that he would take her to see the cows, and even carry her a little way if she got tired. How very kind that was! But would such a great girl as Rosy get tired? O, dear, no; at least, so she said, for Rosy did not like to be thought a baby now, though somehow or other it did sometimes happens that after a long walk her feet would ache a little bit, and then papa's shoulder made a very comfortable seat. She was half afraid now that nursey might be sorry not to see the cows, and ran back to whisper that if she liked she might dress one of the dollies instead. That was meant for a treat, you know; and nursey laughed, and said,-- "Perhaps, we shall see;" and gave her another kiss. Then Rosy showed her papa where the farm was; and when they came near, they saw the farmer's wife standing at the door, as if she expected her little visitor. Rosy did not forget to say,-- "Bon jour, madame," which means "Good morning" in English, you know. Papa asked in French if they could see the cows, and the good woman was kind enough to take them round to the water where they were drinking. There was a black one, and a black and white one, and a red one, and another with red spots. We cannot find room for them all in the picture; but you will see the one which was drinking. Rosy admired them very much, and wanted to go as near as she could that she might see them well; for although they were so very big and had such long legs, she was not a bit afraid of them. She never was afraid of anything when her papa was by, because he was so very strong--stronger than all the world she thought. "Who made the cows, Rosy?" asked her papa, when she had looked at them a little while. "God," said Rosy, softly; "God made everything, didn't he, papa? Why did he make the cows?" she asked, after thinking a minute. "To give us good milk, such as you had yesterday, Rosy, and to make you and other little girls and boys fat and strong. Was not that very good of God!" "Yes, papa," said Rosy, again. "Then will you remember that, my little one, when you say, by and by, 'I thank God for my nice bread and milk'?" Rosy said she would, and then she asked,-- "And do the pretty cows give us coffee, too, papa?" [Illustration: "And do the pretty cows give us coffee, too, papa."] "No, no, my silly little Rosy; don't you recollect that we buy that at the grocer's shop? We must go some day and ask him to let you see it ground up to powder. The coffee comes from a long, long way off. It grows on a tree in a very hot country, and looks like little berries till they put it into a mill and turn a handle. Then the berries are ground up to powder, and we put some boiling water over the powder, and when it gets cool we drink it. Haven't you seen mamma pour it out into the cup and put some sugar and milk in for herself and papa?"