You know, as a rule, Quakers and Baptist folk never agree on anything close enough to be very good friends,but the tale I'm going to tell you is about a Quaker fellow and a Baptist who broke the rules and,well, were an exception to this usually thought of rule.The Baptist and the Quaker fellow were pretty good friends.Quaker boy had moved in a community, felt pretty close to a Baptist church,and they'd known one another for about a year.One day this old Quaker boy goes down to a stock sale and he bought, not knowing it, of course,but bought the meanest milk cow that ever lived.He kept her for about two and a half or three weeks,and during that time she'd spilled at least a half dozen buckets of milkand bruised his knee pretty bad a couple of times with that hind foot, you know.One morning after she'd been in a patch of brambles and scratched them udders all over,that cow stood there and quivered and shook like old Elvis until he got the bucket just about plumb full of foamand was just fixing to come over the top of the bucket, you know.She hauls off and kicks Quaker buckets stooling all over and spills that milk all over him.He got up and walked back about ten feet away from her and brushed the hay and the milk foamand I don't know what all off of him and stood and looked at her until his temper cooled down,and he walked up and patted her on the head and said,Bossy, I can't strike thee, but on the morrow I'll sell thee to a Baptist and he'll beat the hell out of thee.