The Monday Afternoon Club, an organization of city women, met and decided that this month's outing was to be at a dairy farm. Most of them had lived in the city all their lives, and had never seen such a place.
The day came for the trip, and the ladies filed into the rented bus which whisked them off to their destination. On the way, they watched out the windows as the city squalor turned into lovely, unpolluted countryside.
After they arrived, they were greeted by the farmer who invited them to look him up should they have any questions. Myrtle, after looking about, and being amazed by what she saw, stepped into a building and viewed something she thought was quite remarkable.
She saw the farmer walk by and hailed him -- he sauntered in.
"Sir," she inquired, "Why doesn't this cow have any horns?"
The farmer cocked his head for a moment, then began in a patient tone: "Well, ma'am, cattle can do a powerful lot of damage with horns. Sometimes we keep'em trimmed down with a hacksaw. Other times we can fix up the young'uns by puttin' a couple drops of acid where their horns would grow in, and that stops 'em cold. Still, there are some breeds of cattle that never grow horns. But the reason this cow don't have no horns, ma'am, is 'cause it's a horse."
