Poor Buttercup was not in a very good mood; for she had been lately bereft of her calf, and mourned for the little thing most dismally. Just now she regarded all mankind as her enemies {and I do not blame her}, so when the matadore came prancing towards her with the red handkerchief flying at the end of his long lance, she threw up her head, and gave a most appropriate "Moo!".
( Louisa May Alcott )
[ Little Men ]
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