“I’ll turn him. You stay back here out of sight,” commanded Peter, running past the four little Blossoms.
The children were very glad to stay huddled behind the bushes, but they couldn’t help peeping out now and then to see what Peter and Spotty were doing with the bull.
“Woof, woof!” barked Spotty.
“You will, will you?” shouted Peter.
He jabbed the bull with the pitchfork, and that surprised beast turned with a bellow. Holding the pitchfork so that it would not hurt him unless he tried to come at him, Peter forced the bull back through the fence, and then he and Spotty drove him across the field.
Presently Peter and the dog came back, a bit warm and breathless, and very glad the four little Blossoms were to see them.
“You can finish berrying in peace,” said Peter. “I drove the bull into Simmonds’ barnyard and told his man to keep him there. No farmer has a right to leave a cross bull at large.”
The children set to work at the berries again, and, as nothing further happened to disturb them, they filled all four pails before supper time. Bobby and Meg helped the twins a little, and maybe they weren’t proud to have berries of their own picking and cream, as Meg said, of their own milking, for their supper that night! And there were enough berries left over for four small turnovers. Aunt Polly made this pleasant announcement.
“I intended to bake cookies to-morrow morning,” she said, smiling. “And I don’t know why I shouldn’t make turnovers, too, and maybe doughnuts. Perhaps some one would like to keep me company? Linda is going to spend the day with her mother in town, and like as not I shall be lonesome.”