Dear little Readers of "The Nursery:"—I would like to tell you a story about my little brother Clinton and myself. We each have a nice little calf down at our grandpa's farm in the country. One is a pure Alderney, grandpa says, and is of a beautiful fawn color: the other is red and white. Grandpa let us name them: so we called them Buttercup and Daisy. Clinton's is Buttercup, and mine is Daisy.

They are both very kind and gentle. Both have cunning little horns, just coming out of their heads; but they do not hook little brother or me. In the picture you will see them eating corn out of our hands.

At first we were afraid of their damp noses and rough tongues; but we soon got over that, and now feed them every time we go to the farm.

Papa tried to have the little Alderney give us a ride on its back; but, as soon as we were well on, the calf kicked up its heels and ran away, saying, "Bah!" and leaving brother and me on our backs on the soft turf. We were not hurt at all, but had a good laugh.

Buttercup soon came back for more corn; and uncle said, "Give it to her in the ear;" but I said I thought her mouth was the best place to put it in. Then uncle laughed, and said that was a joke. Do you know what he meant?