“Moo?” quoth the cow.

“Moo,” said the other.

“Moo,” said Akiva, spinning from the tree.

and he tried to moo on the blowing-horn but knew not one end from the other.

“Moo is right,” said Iris. She helped him balance. Moo.

“Moo?” said Dan, and the swing creaked, “Moo.”

And “Moo” we said. And “Moo” we all said. And we tucked up our legs.

And we swang in speckles of mid-day sun as the cows sang “Moo” in the shade.