“Don’t you think I could do that?” he asked timidly.
“I dare say you might, my child; there isn’t much of a knack to it.”
“Would you be willin’ to let me try?”
“Of course you shall,” and Aunt Hannah got up quickly from the stool. “Be gentle, and you’ll have no trouble.”
Seth failed at first; but after a few trials he was able to extract a thin stream of the foaming fluid, although White-Face did not appear well pleased with his experiments.
Then Aunt Hannah took the matter in hand, and when she had finished Seth carried the pail for her, arriving at the kitchen just as Gladys and Snip entered, both seemingly weary with their afternoon’s frolic.
Bread, baked that forenoon, and warm milk, made up the evening meal, and again Aunt Hannah prayed for the stranger, much to his secret satisfaction.
While they were at the table the little woman said, in a low tone of authority, such as did not seem suited to her lips:
“You are to stay here until morning, Seth, and then we will have another talk. I’m an old-fashioned old maid, an’ believe in early to bed an’ early to rise, therefore we don’t light lamp or candle in the summer-time, unless some of the neighbors loiter later than usual. You are to sleep in the room over the kitchen, my boy, and when we have finished supper I guess you’ll be glad to lie down, for spading up a piece of grass land isn’t easy work.”
Understanding from these remarks that he was expected to retire without delay, Seth took Snip in his arms immediately the meal had come to a close, and said, as he stood waiting to be shown the way to his room: