THE COSSET-CALF.

When I was quite a little girl I had a cosset-calf, And, when it ran about the fields, It always made me laugh. It seemed as gentle as a lamb, And from my hand was fed; And how I grieved when first I felt The horns upon its head! It always answered to my call, And thrust its wet nose through The bars, and tried its very best To say, "How do you do?" I left it in the early fall, And kissed my pet with tears; For to a little child the months Stretch out as long as years. And when the summer came again, I never shall forget With what dismay I gazed upon My former little pet. I was afraid of those great horns, So crooked on its brow, Nor would believe my little calf Was that enormous cow! But soon I learned to know its face And conquered my alarm, And thought there was no nicer cow On any other farm. And oh the rich sweet milk she gave! Why, just to make me laugh, My mother used to call me then Her little cosset-calf!