"Anybody with eyes could see she's got milk."
"Well, how can you tell, Billy?" asked Virginia.
"Because I know cows. I've holp maw milk a many of a time, and Lethie, too. I don't care if hit hain't a man's job, I've holp 'em when they was sick or busy. Here, you fotched-on women don't know nothing; gimme that air bucket, and a apern and sunbonnet, and I'll show you. Of course, she wouldn't lemme come a-nigh her in breeches."
The nurse lent her large apron, Amy her white sunbonnet, and Billy, retiring to the cooking-tent to put them on, soon emerged, hit the cow a sharp lick on the hip, bawled "Saw!" half a dozen times, squatted down, put out small dirty hands, and in an instant two large jets of milk were foaming into the pail.
"I knowed hit," commented Billy, scornfully; "I got my opinion of a passel of women that hain't able to milk a cow betwixt 'em!"
The women looked on in solemn relief.
And Jeems? He swept the six strange women with a slow glance, in which indignation, disgust, and anguish struggled for supremacy; then, turning on his heel, strode rapidly down the hill.
"Not nary one of 'em able to milk a cow!" he exclaimed to himself over and over, as he descended; and later, as he rode down Troublesome: "Not nary single one! Not even," with a groan, "that air youngest and prettiest!"
It was supper-time when he arrived, and Uncle Lot being present, there was no chance for Aunt Ailsie to ask the reason of his profound melancholy, which, however, was so noticeable that, when she started to milk after supper, she called to him to go with her.
"What in creation's the matter with you, Jeems?" she demanded. "You look like you had seed a hant!"