"Ting-a-ling! ting-a-ling!" went Mrs. Cow's bell. Mrs. Cow seemed mighty anxious to get away from somebody. Yes, sir! she kept right on running, although every now and then she'd turn her head to look behind her.
By and by Little Jack Rabbit came hopping over the top of the hill with a tin pail in his paw. But, goodness me! Mrs. Cow didn't have to run away from him. No indeed. He wasn't going to milk her. He didn't have a milk pail at all, but a little dinner pail, and Mrs. Cow was mistaken and had run away for nothing.
The truth of the matter was that the little rabbit was going berrying down in the Cranberry Marsh on the other side of the Old Duck Pond, but of course Mrs. Cow didn't know that.
But she did know it wasn't time to be milked, and, anyway, she wasn't going to have anybody milk her but the Kind Farmer.
"Mrs. Cow! Mrs. Cow!" cried the little rabbit, "I'm going cranberrying, not milking. Don't run away!"
"Honest Injun?" said Mrs. Cow, halting at the Bubbling Brook. "Cross your heart?"
"Yes, cross my heart," answered the little rabbit.
"Well, I'm glad to hear you say so," replied Mrs. Cow. "I might have sprained my ankle jumping over the Bubbling Brook." Then she trotted along by the little rabbit's side.
"How's your Ma these days?" she asked in a little while.
"She's going to make cranberry jelly when I get back," replied the little rabbit. "Father's very fond of it. How's Mr. Bull?"
"He's very well," answered Mrs. Cow. "He was up when Cocky Doodle sang his Sun Song this morning."
"So was I," laughed the little rabbit. "Mother says Cocky Doodle is better than an alarm clock, for you don't have to wind him."
Just then they came to the end of the meadow, so the little rabbit hopped through the fence and down to the Cranberry Patch to fill his pail with the bright red berries.