Eben’s talk ran much on cows. His poor mother read all she could in the encyclopedia, but even then she couldn’t answer all his questions. Why does a cow have four stomachs? Why does her food come back to be chewed? Why does she chew sideways? Why does she have to be milked twice a day? Why doesn’t she get out of the way when an auto comes down the road? When Eben asked his father these things the farmer would shake his head and answer, “I guess it’s just because she’s a cow.”
There came a very exciting day at Green Mountain Farm. For twenty years Andrew Brewster and his men had milked his cows morning and evening. His hands were hard from the practice. The children loved to watch him milk. With every pull of his strong hands he made a fine white stream of milk shoot into the pail, squirt, squirt, squirt. Eben had often tried, but pull as he would, he could only get out a few drops. And even as Andrew Brewster had milked his cows morning and evening until his hands were horny, so had his father done before him. Yes, and his father’s father, too. For three generations of Brewsters had hardened their hands milking cows on Green Mountain Farm. Then there came this exciting day, and a new way of milking began at the big red barn.
A milking machine was put in. It ran by a wonderful little puffing gasolene engine. It milked two cows at once. And it milked all twenty-six of them in twenty minutes. Andrew Brewster could manage the whole herd alone with what help Eben could give him. It was a great day for him. It was a great day for Eben and Nancy too.
Part 2
There came another day which was even more exciting for the two children than when the milking machine was put into the big red barn. This story is really about that day. Eben was then ten years old and Nancy seven. Their father and mother had gone for the day to a county fair. The two children were to be alone all day, which made up for not going to the fair. The children had long since eaten the cold dinner their mother had left for them. They had done all their chores too. Nancy had gathered the eggs and Eben had chopped the kindling and brought in the wood. They had fed the baby chickens and given them water. Then they had gone to the woods for an afternoon climb over the big rocks and a wade in the brook. Now they were waiting for their father and mother to come back. They had been waiting for a long time, for it was seven o’clock. The last thing their mother had called out as she drove off behind the two old farm horses was, “We’ll be back by five o’clock, children.”
What could have happened? “Eben,” said Nancy, “we’d better eat our own supper and get something ready for Father and Mother. I guess I’ll try to scramble some eggs.”
“Go ahead,” answered Eben. “But we’re not the ones I’m worrying about—nor Father and Mother either. It’s those poor cows.”
“Oh! the cows!” cried Nancy. “And the poor Little Sisters! They’ll be so hungry.” Both children ran to the door. “Just listen to them,” said Eben. “They’ve been waiting in the barn for over an hour now. I certainly wish Father would come.” From the big red barn came the lowing of the restless cattle. “I’m going to have another look at them,” said Eben. “Come along, Nancy.”
The two children peered into the big dark barn. The unmistakable cow smell came to them strong in the dark. Stretching down the whole length was stall after stall, each holding an impatient cow. The children could see the restless hind feet moving and stamping; they could see the flicking of many tails; they could feel the cows pulling at the stanchions. On the other side were the stalls of the Little Sisters. They too were moving about wildly. Over above it all rose the deafening sound of the plaintive lowings. By the door stood the gasolene engine. It was attached to a pipe which ran the whole length of the great barn above the cows’ stalls. Eben’s eyes followed this pipe until it was lost in the dark.
“Moo-oo-oo,” lowed the cow nearest at hand, so loud that both children jumped. “Poor old Redface,” said Nancy. “I wish we could help you.” “We’re going to,” said Eben in an excited voice, “See here, Nancy. We’re going to milk these cows!” “Why, Eben Brewster, we could never do it alone!” Nancy’s eyes went to the gasolene engine as she spoke. “We’ve got to,” said Eben. “That’s all there is about it.”