"Oh, pretty soon," he replied as he left Bob.
Thursday was the big day of the Fair, and Bob, as a special reward for his services, was permitted to go to the Fair each day; in fact, much of the care of the stock depended on him, although he was unable to stay in town overnight as he would have liked on account of taking care of the milking.
Whom should he meet early Thursday morning, as he was coming from milking his cows that were on exhibition, but his father.
"Why, hello, Bob. I was just looking for you. My, how you have grown.
I'd scarcely have known you."
"How-do-you-do, dad; how'd you like to have a drink of good fresh milk? 'Grown on Brookside Farm, Joseph Williams, Proprietor,'" he laughed.
"Fine," said his father, whereupon Bob handed him a glass of rich milk.
"Not as good as Gurney's, but pretty good at that," remarked his father. "I've heard about the prizes you and your Uncle Joe have won and couldn't help but come in and look you over, even, though I'm very busy and it was hard to get away."
"How did you leave mother and the rest of the family?" was Bob's next inquiry.
"Oh, they're all well, Bob. Your mother was sorry she couldn't come with me, but it was hard for her to get away. How do you like farming?"
"Oh, I like farming very much and I want to be a farmer. You know, there are lots of interesting things to do on a farm, dad."