Yet, even so, and knowing, moreover, that strange cows are ever untrustworthy, only for a moment did he waver.
Then his new straw hat was off to be shaken at them and he heaved a fierce "_H-a-y--y-u-p!_" At this they started, rather indignantly, seeming to meditate his swift destruction; but another shout turned and routed them, and he even chased them a little way, helped now by the inconsiderable dog who came up from pretending to hunt gophers.
After this there seemed nothing to do but eat the other half of the provisions and retire again for the night.

Long after the sun went down behind the magic wood he lay uneasily on his lumpy bed, trying again and again to shut his eyes and open them to find it morning--which was the way it always happened in the west bedroom of the big house he had left forever.
But it was different here.

And presently, when it seemed nearly dark except for the stars, a disgraceful thing happened.

He had pictured the dog as faithful always to him, refusing in the end even to be taken from over his dead body.

But the treacherous Penny grew first restive, then plainly desirous of returning to his home.