26 Turnaside Cottage.

now, and had served us before in stress of weather.
I snatched a good handful of grass as we ran in, and
was feeding Monna with it, bit by bit, when a voice
said, “Why, here is my little boy with the black
cow!” and, looking round, I saw the lady in the
doorway.

Her words, unfortunately, reminded me of my
nickname given me by the boys, “ Miss Benny of
the black cow;’ and my shyness came upon me
with such force that, if the lady had not stood be-
tween me and the door, I do believe I should have
run away again. Where all my fine answers were
gone, I cannot tell ; not one would come to my help;
and I turned my back to the lady and hid my face
in Monna’s side—not a comfortable thing to do, for
I remember that her hairy coat tickled my face
considerably.

“What a nice quiet cow,” said the lady, not
sceming to notice my rudeness. “Is she yours ?”

“No,” said I, making an effort to bring out my
voice, which seemed to be gone in search of the
missing speeches.

“She seems very fond of you,” said the lady.
“What is her name ?”

“ Monna,” returned I, as before.

“That isa pretty name. Did you give it her ?”

“Yes,” said I, turning round. “She's father’s