“Well, that settles the hens,” said Mike. “I wonder how Peggy is getting on with the fire.”
Peggy was not getting on at all well. The rain was now coming down fast, and she could not get the fire going. Jack arrived with Daisy the cow and shouted to Peggy:
“Never mind about the fire! Now that the rain’s coming down so fast you won’t be able to light it. Get into Willow House, all of you, before you get too wet.”
“The girls can go,” said Mike, running to help Jack. “I’ll get the things to help you milk. My goodness - we haven’t drunk all the milk yet that Daisy gave us this morning!”
“Put it into a dish and pop it in the hen-yard,” said Jack. “Maybe the hens will like it!”
In the pouring rain Jack milked Daisy the cow. Soon all the saucepans and the kettle and bowls were full! Really, thought Jack, he simply must get that old milking-pail that the girls had told him of at their Aunt’s farm. It was such a tiring business milking a cow like this.
When the milking was finished, Jack took Daisy back to her grassy field on the other side of the island. Mike went to Willow House where the two girls were. It was dark there, and the sound of rain drip-drip-drip-ping from the trees all around sounded rather miserable.
Mike and the two girls sat in the front part of Willow House and waited for Jack. Mike was very wet, and he shivered.
“Poor old Jack will be wet through, too,” he said. “Feel this milk, girls. It’s as warm as can be. Let’s drink some and it will warm us up. We can’t boil any, for we haven’t a fire.”
Jack came to Willow House dripping wet. But he was grinning away as usual. Nothing ever seemed to upset Jack.