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 paint. I don't know why it was covered with bright red, because cows are not bright red, or buttercups and daisies either, are they? But still it was. And one day he even went into the farmer's wife's red sitting-room and sat on the floor with his head among the scarlet cushions on the sofa. After this everyone thought he must be mad, and the farmer's sons called him "the crazy bull-calf."

But all this time he never once forgot his dear poppy, and every evening he went down to the hole in the hedge and talked through it to her, until the autumn came and she went to seed. But