All night long, low desolate sounds were heard in Newark, N.J. The sounds brought a vague disquiet to the hearts of young people returning from the movies, to milkmen beginning their rounds. Here & there a suburban householder, coming home late, could have sworn that he heard under his very feet the melancholy, muffled moo of a cow.
It was a cow all right. She was a 1,300-Ib. Holstein, a runaway from a herd of 28 unloaded that day from Wisconsin. Heading back toward the farm, she had wandered along a creek bed which leads into the labyrinth of sewers...
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