One of the girls said that she couldn't train a Texas horse that way.
"Oh, any horse is susceptible to kindness, dear. I will soon have them so trained that they will follow me wherever I go and I'll teach them how to obey every command I give them. It takes time and patience, though."
"Evelyn, where is the big spring that we have heard so much about?"
"It is about a mile down that way," and she pointed southward. "To-morrow we will ride down there, for we have a large surrey and two horses for domestic use."
About sunset Evelyn insisted on their going out to the cowpen and see her milk. Up to that time they hadn't taken any stock in her claim that she could milk cows and make butter, and they regarded her as simply a society girl who wouldn't do any work at all; but the dairyman told them that she was the best milker he had ever seen.
It was a pretty big job, but she milked the half dozen Jersey cows, actually doing a man's work. Neither of the girls had ever milked a cow in their lives, for their parents didn't keep any cows at their city home.
That night they sat down to a game dinner of quail, jack-rabbits and prairie chickens.
Evelyn insisted on their standing by her in the kitchen and seeing her cook everything. They were satisfied that she had not been boasting, and such biscuit they had never tasted in their lives, notwithstanding the fact that their mother had a well-trained colored cook.
"Evelyn," the elder of the sisters asked, "you seem to know all about housework, but tell me how you manage to keep your hands so soft and white if you have been doing this sort of work before."
"Oh, I don't do it regularly, only when I take a notion to do so at home; but I think it is every woman's duty to learn such things, so that if she gets hold of an incompetent servant she can teach her."