Mary C. Huntington

“ Quoth the idle scapegrace, with twinkling eye, "I've heard of a cure which you might try."
Then some Latin words he gravely said. "If on to her back a weight is laid,
She'll give milk straightway, and quiet be." Said the doubting Deacon, "I'll try and see."
Out in the stable Peachblow stood, calm chewing her cud as a heifer should.
Spoke the Deacon: "William, you're young and spry; you can climb on her back, now, quicker'n I.
You'll do for the weight. I'll fetch the stool, and milk the critter: you just keep cool." ”

“ Sadder and wiser, Deacon Brown led Peachblow home as the sun went down;
And all the questioners got him to say was, that he might tell them some other day.
But Peachblow was lamb-like enough that night,—was milked very meekly, and seemed all right.
And the Deacon mused: "Wal, the heathen may have fust-rate cow cures, but I must say,
They are tryin' to old folks, anyway." ”

“ What a dreadful scandal throughout the town might rise from this frolic of Deacon Brown!
Was he drunk, or crazy, that thus he'd ride? And, loud as he could, the parson cried,
"Stop, stop, Brother Brown! Oh! where will you go?" ”