I turned from the main road, and climbed the fence and walked across my upper field to the old wood lane. The air was heavy and sweet with clover blossoms, and along the fences I could see that the raspberry bushes were ripening their fruit.
So I came down the lane and heard the comfortable grunting of pigs in the pasture lot and saw the calves licking one another as they stood at the gate.
“How they've grown!” I said.
I stopped at the corner of the barn for a moment. From within I heard the rattling of milk in a pail (a fine sound), and heard a man's voice saying:
“Whoa, there! Stiddy now!”
“Dick's milking,” I said.
So I stepped in at the doorway.
“Lord, Mr. Grayson!” exclaimed Dick, rising instantly and clasping my hand like a long-lost brother.
“I'm glad to see you!”
“I'm glad to see YOU!”