Bob made no reply. He took his pails and lantern and started for the
barn. His hands were stiff and blistered from using the fork all day,
and it was with difficulty that he finished his task in the ill-
smelling and badly ventilated barn. His back ached, too, as he carried
the pails to the house.

"Why were you so long?" asked his uncle impatiently, as Bob entered.
"Your grandmother wouldn't let us eat till you came in, so I fed the
calves and pigs for you while we were waiting."

"At home, Uncle Joe," replied Bob, as they seated themselves at the
table, "we always milk at five o'clock and don't let anything else
interfere with it. Father says a cow should be milked early and
regularly."

"Well, Bob, your father's not a farmer, and if he wants you to quit in
the middle of the afternoon to milk your cow, you can do so, but we'll
milk ours after the day's work's done," was the stern answer.

"Probably that's the reason Gurney gives nearly as much milk as any
three of yours," replied Bob quietly, to which remark his uncle made
no reply.




III

A RAINY DAY