He got off his stool, and Julius took his place. He began to pull, but not a drop of milk rewarded his efforts.
“There ain’t no milk left,” he said. “You’re foolin’ me.”
In reply Abner drew a full stream into the pail.
“I did just like you,” said Julius, puzzled.
“No, you didn’t. Let me show you.”
Here followed a practical lesson, which cannot very well be transferred to paper, even if the writer felt competent to give instructions in an art of which he has little knowledge.
Julius, though he had everything to learn, was quick in acquiring knowledge, whether practical or that drawn from books, and soon got the knack of milking, though it was some days before he could emulate Abner with his years of experience.
The next day Julius undertook to milk a cow alone. So well had he profited by Abner’s instructions, that he succeeded very well. But he was not yet experienced in the perverse ways of cows. When the pail was nearly{103} full, and he was congratulating himself on his success, the cow suddenly lifted her foot, and in an instant the pail was overturned, and all the milk was spilled, a portion of it on the milker.
Julius uttered an exclamation of mingled dismay and anger.
“What’s the matter?” asked Abner, rather amused at the expression on the face of Julius, notwithstanding the loss of the milk.