Publisher's Synopsis
A few of the farmyard folk were a bit jealous of the Muley Cow. The little red lady that stood on one side of her, in the barn, often said that Johnnie Green was wasting too many goodies on her. It seemed as if he never entered the cow barn without bringing some tidbit for old Muley, as her neighbors called her-behind her back. If it wasn't a potato that Johnnie fished out of his pocket it might be an apple or a carrot, or maybe a piece of pumpkin, or turnip, or beet. At such times the little red cow would cast a knowing look at the big white person on the other side of the Muley Cow, as if to say, "There! He's at it again! Did you ever, in all your life?" And the big white cow would twist her head as far around as her stanchion would let her, and stretch her lean neck to the utmost, hoping for a share of the treat. She often told the little red cow, privately, that the delicious smell of such things as potatoes and apples was enough to drive anybody frantic.
