He left us and we went on picking berries, and before the pail was full Minerva had a chance to pat the fearsome beast that had so nearly frightened her to death. Now that she knew it was merely a cow, the source of the milk and cream of which she was so fond, she had no fear at all, being in that respect different from Ethel, who in the beginning had feared cows because they were cows, just as certain other women fear mice because they are mice, and as Lord Roberts fears a cat because it is a cat and not “the enemy.”
The whistle at the Wharton Paper Mill told us it was twelve o’clock, and like hungry mill hands we started for home. Minerva walked ahead with both pails, and Ethel and I followed.
Half way up Minerva burst into song.
“How volatile!” said I.
“The worst is over. We’ll have no more trouble with her,” said Ethel.
So lightly do we attempt to read the future.
CHAPTER VIII
THE ’CORDEEN COMES.
THAT afternoon Bert brought an express package to Minerva.
To her it was a package of sunlight.