Thus dreaming, she flew along like a bird.
Here and there she passed a farm, and soon she began to see signs of life about. The men were coming from the barns with brimming pails of milk. As she passed one house somewhat nearer to the road than the rest, she caught the fragrance of frying ham and the aroma of coffee. It made her hungry.
A mile further she came to a small white house not far from the roadside. Outside the door a woman who wore a sunbonnet and a big apron sat on a three-legged stool, milking a mild old cow. As Dawn came near, the woman gave the last scientific squeeze, and moved the pail from its position under the cow, then, taking the stool in one hand and the pail in the other, started for the house. The face she showed beneath the deep sunbonnet was a kindly one.
Following an impulse, Dawn turned in at the front gate, and the old woman paused to see what she wanted:
"Could you let me have a glass of milk?" Dawn's voice was sweet, and she held her purse in her hand. "I would be glad to pay for it. I started early this morning, and am hungry. I'm on my way to the next village."
The woman's face lit up at the sight of the girl's smile.
"A glass of milk?" she said. "'Course I can, but I don't want no pay for it. Just you keep your pennies for a new ribbon to wear under that pretty chin. Set down under the tree there on the bench, an' I'll bring a cup."
She put down her pail on a large flat stone, and hurried in, coming out in a moment with a plate of steaming johnny-cake and a flowered cup of delicate china. The woman strained the milk into the cup and stood watching her while she ate the delicious breakfast.
"Come fur?" asked the hostess, eying the sweet young tramp appreciatively.
"From beyond Schoharie," she answered quickly, remembering the name on the last cross-road signboard she had passed.