“Then you came from the city?”
“Yes, an’ I never got so far out in the country before. Say, it’s mighty fine, ain’t it?” And as Aunt Hannah relinquished her hold on the pail, Seth started toward the house without waiting for a reply to his question.
After placing the stool bottom up by the side of the broad stone which served as doorstep, the little woman called to Gladys:
“It’s time White-Face was taken to pasture, child.”
“Do you mean the cow?” Seth asked.
“Yes, dear.”
“Why can’t I take her to the pasture; that is, if you’ll tell me where to find it?”
“Unfasten her chain, and she will show you the way. It’s only across the road over yonder.”
Seth ran quickly to the barn, and having arrived at the doorway through which Aunt Hannah disappeared when she went about the task of milking, he halted in surprise and fear, looking at what seemed to him an enormous beast with long, threatening horns, which she shook now and then in what appeared to be a most vicious fashion.
Only once before had Seth ever seen an animal of this species, and then it was when he and Pip Smith had travelled over to the Erie Yards to see a drove of oxen taken from the cars to the abattoir.