. . Incidentally
Frank, you can get original first hand information, together with
some startling dialog relating thereto, if you will ask Jim
Anderson's wife at Russellville how she raised "Old Nellie"--the
old sorrel mare we now have at the farm--when her mother died
when she was born. I can write the details but it takes Stella
(Jim's wife) to give the matter the proper wording. (It is a
story for men only. Women crimp Stella's style). . .Well, the
facts are these: There was that tiny hungry little helpless colt.
They got her dried off and away from her dead mother into a box
stall with plenty of straw. Then the food question arose. Jim
drove up one of the cows; they milked some milk into a small
crock; Stella stuck two of her fingers into the colt's mouth and
down into the milk crock, and eventually Nellie got the idea. And
so, from day to day, they repeated the scene. The leggy ambling
colt waxed sleek and gained flesh. She got so she could drink,
but preferred to suck Stella's fingers. One evening Ernest was
there, and the usual performances were had, and everybody admired
the colt and thought it very cute . . . when all of a sudden and
all unexpectedly, Nellie backed square behind Stella, got the
exact range and let fly with both feet, hitting Stella squarely
on the axis and knocking her about six feet flat on her stomach.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196