“What could I do but kill her? One pail she kicked over full of milk, we never saw or heard of agin; but Dyer’s folks, live over on the North Road, about a mile off, said they had quite a little shower of milk at their house that morning,—wondered where it come from. I had a pair of boots made out of her hide; but I never could wear ’em. I was always kicking somebody, and gitting hauled up for ’sault ’n’ battery.”
Mr. Chatford now came into the yard, and saw with surprise his neighbor Sellick milking one of his cows.
“Haven’t you any milking to do at home, Sellick?”
“Yes, but the boys can do that. I’ve invited Jack here to go and ride with me; and I thought I would help him a little about his chores fust.”
“Go and ride? I haven’t heard anything about it!” said Jack.
“Didn’t I mention it? Wal, that was an oversight!”
“I thought you had come to see Mr. Chatford. You asked for him.”
“Did I? Mebby I wanted to ask him if he was willing you should go,—we must keep the right side o’ the deacon! I left my wagon at the fence below here; didn’t take it along to the gate, thinking Squire Peternot might want to hitch there.”
Jack turned pale. But the deacon said, “What nonsense are you up to now, Sellick?”
“What! do you call it nonsense for a neighbor to come and take your boy to ride? Here, Phin, come and finish this cow; she’s done, all but stripping. I wouldn’t begin another, Jack. We must be starting.”