activity with a cheerful, skipping along joviality--even when the cow defecated. soupy brown torrents gushed out a gasp away from Arthurs I leapt back, but Arthur remained impressively unflustered. his hand still embroiled in the cow's defecating He'd had more encounters with cow excrement than he could count and they no longer held any power to repulse him. Arthur waited for the deluge of dung to dwindle to a drip,