afraid of cows, even when they were within the quiet enclosure of the
yard, and here was a wild lot apparently coming upon her to destroy her.
She crouched, terror stricken, as if to take shelter behind the frail
bulwark of her easel.

Then she saw a horse leap through the gap in the fence and come
galloping after the cows. On the horse was a girl, not a large girl, but
she was riding fearlessly, bare-back, and urging the horse to greater
strides. Her black hair was trailing in the wind as she waved a willow
switch and shouted lustily at the cows. She managed to head the cows off
before they had reached Mildred, rounding them up sharply and driving
them back through the breach into the road which they followed quietly
homeward. The rider then galloped back to the frightened girl.

"Did the cows scare you?" she asked.

"Yes," panted Mildred. "I'm so frightened of cows, and these were so
wild."

"They were just playing. They wouldn't hurt you; but they did look
fierce."

"Whose cows were they?"

"They're ours. I have to get them up every day. Sometimes when the flies
are bad they get a little mad, but I'm not afraid of them. They know me,
you bet. I can milk the kickiest one of the lot."

"Do you milk the cows?"