Her story is 's she only had time to see its horns 'n'
the wildness of its eyes afore she never _will_ know what did possess
her. She never see a cow that near in all her life before, 'n' she
says 'f that 's the way they look face to, she ain't surprised 't
folks sit a little back when milkin'. It was nigh to on to her, 'n'
you know yourself 't the bridge is narrow 'n' Mrs. Macy ain't. Well,
Mrs. Lathrop, you c'n believe me or not jus' 's you please, 'cause it
'll be Mrs. Macy 's you 'll be doubtin' anyhow, but this is what she
says happened. The bridge is _here_, you know," Susan laid off the
plan on her knee, "'n' the road is _here_. The cow was runnin' like
mad along _here_, 'n' Mrs. Macy was white 'n' tremblin' so 't the
whole bridge shook under her, right atop of it. She says to her dyin'
day she 'll never see how she done it, but she jus' grabbed her
skirts, spread 'em out wide 'n' said 'Shoo!' 's loud 's she could. Her
story is 't the cow stopped, like she was struck dumb that second;
then she reared up 's pretty a rear 's Mrs. Macy 'll ever ask to see,
'n' then she fell sideways into the mill-race. The water was on full
'n' she went right down 'n' into the mill-wheel, 'n' some of her
caught in it 'n' she could n't budge.
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