The visitors called on Mrs. Sally Sweet, the beautiful gentle Jersey cow that gave such wonderful rich milk; they saw the seven new little white pigs; they took salt to the sheep that were in a stony pasture and that came running when Peter called to them from the bars.
They made the acquaintance, too, of Jerry and Terry, the two faithful farm horses, and Nelly Bly, the brown mare who had a small colt, Felix, by her side. Meg had to be dragged away from the colt. She said she had never seen such a darling little horse.
Jud Apgar was a tall, lanky boy, with the same pleasant drawling way of speaking his father had, and the “evenest temper that ever was,” 67 Linda said. Linda should have known, because she was a great tease.
On their way back from the sheep pasture Aunt Polly and the Blossoms stopped at the tenant house, and Mrs. Apgar asked them in to taste of her fresh buttermilk. She had just finished churning, and the children saw their first churn. They admired the firm yellow butter, but they did not care much for the buttermilk, though Mother Blossom drank two glasses of it and said it was delicious.
It was nearly dinner time now, for Aunt Polly, like many people who live in the country, liked to have her dinner at noon, and they all hurried home to get freshened up for the meal. Poor Dot, as usual, had managed to soil her frock, and she had to be buttoned into a clean dress.
“How’d you ever get that old egg on it?” scolded Meg, nevertheless helping her to fasten the buttons.
“I didn’t know eggs broke so easy,” explained Dot. “I was looking in a nest where a hen was 68 sitting, and she flew up and scared me. And I just touched one of her eggs and it broke.”
Meg happened to glance from the window.
“Peter’s brought the trunks!” she cried. “And the kiddie-car and a bundle that must be the surprise Daddy told us about. Hurry, Dot.”
The two little girls ran downstairs and found the others gathered about the trunks and parcels on the front porch.