After the cow was milked and bedded in the stall for the night, Sam came for Susy. But the little calf acted wobbly in comparison to her nimble jumping and activity of the morning. So he walked slowly to give her time to rest now and then, and they finally reached the shed which was her domain.
The following morning Sam came hastily to the house and asked his aunt: “Is Miss Janet inside?”
“Yeh. They all eatin’ brekfus’—why?”
“Somethin’ seems wrong with Susy. She can’t get up.”
“Law-sake! I’ll call Janet immedjit, Sam. Jus’ wait.”
So not only Janet, but the whole family, ran from the back door and wanted to know what was the matter with the calf.
“I donno, but somethin’ is, cause she won’t stan’ up an’ she won’t eat nothin’.”
Out to the barn yard they hurried, Rachel as usual bringing up the rear because of her size and breathlessness. Susy was watched for a few minutes, but she remained upon her side. Then Janet tried to coax her to get up by showing her the pan of milk. Still the calf paid no attention to the offer. Mrs. James stooped over her and said: “She looks all right.”
“How can you judge that way, Jimmy?” cried Janet, greatly concerned. “Susy can’t go pale, you know, nor can you see the flush of fever, even if she has one.”
Natalie placed a hand on Susy’s forehead to see if it was hot and feverish, and Belle remarked laughingly: “Feel her pulse.”
“How cruel of you, Belle!” exclaimed Janet, half-crying.
“Well, is there any other way you can tell if Susy is ill or merely pretending,” retorted Belle.
“She can’t pretend like a ’possum would,” said Norma, defensively.
“And to think she may die and I haven’t even paid for her yet. I owe all that money to Jimmy!” wailed Janet.
“Should the worst come to the worst, Janet, you’re better off than if you paid for her with your own money,” Belle said, teasingly.
“What do you mean?” demanded Janet.
“Jimmy could not collect because you could tell her to confiscate the chattel on which the mortgage was made,” laughed Belle. But her joking in face of such a calamity as a sick Susy, was her undoing. The girls unceremoniously told her to get out!
While they tried to push Belle out of the shed, Susy lifted her woolly head and gazed after them, then she flopped back again upon the straw. Mrs. James called to Janet to hurry back.
“Susy just tried to lift her head. I believe we can get her out in the air if we can carry her, or help her stand.”
As they tried to find a hold on the calf, she struggled upon her wobbly legs. Then she nosed hungrily at Mrs. James’s hands.
“I know, girls!” exclaimed Mrs. James, as a sudden memory flashed into her thoughts. “I had a little calf when I lived on the farm, and we had to coax her to drink for a few weeks after she was weaned. Maybe this is what Susy wants—a comfort, so to say.”
“Do you think she is too weak to stand?” asked Janet.
“Yes, I do. If we can coax her to eat she will be all right in no time,” declared Mrs. James.
“Sam, you bring the milk out to us, will you,” asked Janet.
The deep dish of milk was brought and placed before Susy and then Mrs. James held one hand down in the fluid, while she fondled the calf’s nose with the other hand. She managed to slowly draw the nose down to the milk, and when Susy sniffed the warm flesh of the hand in the milk, she began to lap. The hand very gently stroked the soft nose as Susy began lapping, and this was exactly what the poor little thing wanted. She had not been completely weaned from her mother and was afraid of unknown food.
Slowly at first, then as her courage grew, Susy began snuffling loudly as she fed. Finally she over-gulped just as babies will, and she choked as they too, do. She sent the milk flying out of the pan as if an underground explosion had burst upward. The anxious scouts had been close about the calf watching her feed, and Mrs. James was on her knees holding her hand in the milk, when the upspurt took place so every girl was sprinkled, and Mrs. James’s face was streaming with milk.
Susy never stopped for such a trifle as that, however, nor did she express any regrets for the deluge of milk she had caused. Then when all the milk was gone, the calf gazed with soulful eyes at Mrs. James. It was so plainly a look of gratitude that it made the girls laugh. A short time after the bountiful breakfast, Susy was as frisky as ever, and provided ample amusement for her admirers.
Janet walked to the house with Mrs. James and remarked: “I always thought a cow weaned the calf without assistance from others.”
“So they will if they are given time, but when a calf is taken prematurely from its mother, the weaning process has to take place in an artificial manner,” explained Mrs. James.
“It won’t be very pleasant to have to hold my hand in the pan of milk every time Susy wants to eat. I think we ought to wean her at once from a bad habit like that,” was Janet’s comment
“It is much like having a baby that sucks its thumb when it is hungry. But there is no aftermath with a calf while there are adnoids, dwarfed arch in the mouth, enlarged tonsils, and many other serious things that develop from thumb, or nipple sucking. I never see a child with a so-called ‘mother’s comfort’ in its mouth that I do not want to scream at the ignorant woman who allows it.”
“Well, Jimmy, I never knew that myself. I do not believe it is ignorance so much, as that one woman hears another one commend a rubber comfort for the baby to keep it quiet, so they use it.”
“What do you call that if it is not ignorance! Why does not the mother make sure that the sucking is safe before she gives the child the habit that is so difficult to break. I don’t blame the poor child, but it is the one that pays the penalty for the mother’s carelessness. If it were the mother who had to pay in physical pain and weakness the price of that ‘comfort’ sucking maybe there would be more mothers willing to hear the baby cry, or to take it up to soothe it.”
Belle had never heard of the dangers of rubber sucking for babies, but she then and there determined to warn every mother she met who allowed her baby to hold a “comfort” between its lips.
During the interest in their subject, Janet and Mrs. James stood a short distance from the others who were still playing with Susy. But quite suddenly, without due warning of her intentions, the calf resented the pulling of her curly hair on top of her head, and kicked out with her heels.
Fortunately no one was in line with the kick, but the girls shrieked and backed pell-mell away from Susy. Then she, beginning to cut capers as she did the day before, rushed to the end of the tether and pulled on it as if to loosen it. But it held.
Before the girls could get out of the way, Susy began to race in a circle just as great in circumference as the rope permitted. And circling wildly around and around, she wound the swiftly winding rope about the feet of the group watching her. In another moment they had been tripped over and were struggling to get out of the noose the rope was making. But Susy kept on circling until the rope was so short that it almost choked her.
Sam came to the rescue of the calf and after he had disentangled her from the rope, he mumbled: “I hopes I am here when Susy goes to de butcher!”
Such a torrent of abuse as that brought down on his head, drove Sam back to the barn to finish the pigeon coop. But that was not the last time Susy played the same trick upon the girls. She generally tripped them over when they were least expecting the playful act, and she invariably ended by snarling herself so completely in the rope that she had to be untangled every time.
That noon when Frances came home from Four Corners with the mail and the grocery orders for Rachel, she did not put the car up as usual. She left the groceries in the kitchen and then went to the side-porch where Mrs. James sat sewing.
“Jimmy, I heard the funniest thing that I know of, while I was at Tompkins’ this morning,” she began.
The girls instantly gathered around to listen. And Frances continued: “That officer who shot the tire has a farm several miles the other side of Four Corners. While he was chasing us, and trying to find out where the escaping villains went, his son rode a bicycle furiously to the place where he expected to find his father, to tell him he was wanted at home to keep a swarm of bees that was about to swarm from flying away. But he could not find his dad so he went back home to learn that the bees had already wandered away.
“The boy hunted all over the country-side for the swarm but could not locate it. Today when Si Tompkins told his customers of the fine swarm of lost bees he had hived on Sunday, one of them said: ‘That must be Babcock’s swarm he lost yesterday.’
“Mr. Tompkins investigated and is sure now that the swarm we secured were Babcock’s bees. He told me to tell you, so that we would know what to do in case Babcock puts in a claim for it.”
“That seems to be ‘adding injury to insult’,” laughed Janet, when she heard the story.
“I could hardly keep from laughing myself, when I heard how the officer missed his natural prey and then lost the very object we were speeding to win. I think he is entitled to the full value of the bees because we deprived him of making an arrest,” explained Frances.
“Girls, that will be the best way out of the whole case. We’ll pay for the swarm and we’ll pay Tompkins for hiving it for us. It is well worth the price Mr. Tompkins said the owner may demand of us,” added Mrs. James.
So a letter was written to Mr. Babcock explaining how the bees came to be on Green Hill Farm, but nothing was said about the identity of the speeders he had hoped to catch. This letter and a check for the swarm of bees was taken back to Four Corners that same day and left in Babcock’s letter box.
Sue had been grazing faithfully ever since she had been tethered on the lawns, but the contract was too large for her. Eat as constantly and ravenously as she could, the grass grew beyond her powers of grazing. Then Norma realized that a mower would be a necessity.
“Well, you are the flower-scout, Norma, and grass is a decorative feature of the farm, so it comes under your work,” said Natalie, laughingly.
“All right, if I have charge of the grass, I’ll ask Janet the rent for the cow who is feeding on my grass. I ought to collect enought that way to pay for a new lawn mower.”
“If you do that, I’ll charge you for Sue’s services in keeping part of the lawn down since Saturday,” retorted Janet.
“Stop bandying words, girls, and come down to the cellar to help us carry the old mower out. It has to be tried out to see if the knives work all right,” ordered Natalie.
So the old lawn mower left by the last tenant, was dragged up the cellar steps and overhauled by Sam. He examined the wheels and pronounced them able to turn. Then he examined the blades and said they seemed all right, but needed grinding, maybe. He examined the rest of the mower and his final verdict was that the mower was as good as any new one from the shops. So it was decided that Norma should try it out on the lawn.
Norma was about to pull the lawn mower across the grass to the front plot, when Sam said: “Jus’ wait a minute and I’ll fetch some ile and ile the machinery to make it run easier.”
Rachel ran indoors to the pantry and found the oil bottle and brought it to her nephew who then oiled the mower quite liberally. The mower ran splendidly as long as it was being drawn over the grass in the reverse order for cutting, but once Norma started to push it the proper way to cut, its blades balked. They would not move the least.
Sam was watching, and when Norma called that the mower wouldn’t go, he crossed the grass and had another look at it.
“It went all right back by the kitchen door,” said he.
“But it didn’t have anything to cut when you had it on a box and began spinning the blades in the air,” argued Norma.
“Lem’me try it. Mebbe you ain’t got strength enough to push it along,” remarked Sam.
Norma expressed a sneer at this statement and Sam tried to make the machine work. It balked exactly as it had for Norma. But it always acted perfectly when the wheels were being backed the reverse way.
“I reckon we’d better get a screw-driver and loosen the nuts up a little bit,” suggested Sam, after he had rattled the various parts of the mower.
One of the girls ran for a screw-driver and Sam began taking the wheels off; next the outside frame was removed and then the blades. When the entire mower was in sections, Sam searched anxiously for whatever it was that blocked the action of the blades. But he found nothing.
“It looks all right to me,” he announced in the tones of a specialist who has been summoned to diagnose a fatal disease.
“Put it together again and we’ll try it once more. It may work now that it has been doctored,” laughed Natalie.
But Sam could not assemble the parts as they had been before. He screwed wrong parts together and did other erroneous things that caused the girls who were watching him to laugh merrily. Finally he threw down the screw-driver and said angrily:
“I never said I was a machinist! I can’t fix the ole thing.”
Farmer Ames drove in just now with the goslings. When he saw the group of interested girls standing about Sam he pulled on the reins to stop the horse. Then he called out to ask what was the matter with the mower.
“That’s what we want to know,” retorted Natalie.
Ames jumped out of the wagon and crossed the grass. He looked it over critically, smiled at the way Sam had adjusted the parts in the wrong places and then took apart the mower again. He felt of the blades and looked, to report, to Natalie.
“Fust thing, them blades is so dull they won’t cut soft butter. And next thing, there’s a nut missing from inside.”
Everyone went down upon her knees to hunt for the nut and after a diligent search in the grass, found it. Mr. Ames fastened it in place and then shoved the mower a few feet across the grass. It ran nicely, now, but the knives did not cut anything.
“I’ll get behind and push it good and hard and see if it cuts,” offered Norma, jumping up to do as she had said.
The mower ran noisily across the grass, the blades clicking loud enough to chop down forest trees. But not a wisp of grass was cut when Norma finished the length of the lawn.
“It won’t cut!” declared Mr. Ames.
“But the knives revolve all right. They wouldn’t do even that before you fixed them,” replied Natalie.
“Maybe the grass is too long and needs a top-cutting,” suggested Janet.
“I says it ain’t no good, whatever. Quickest way to cut that grass is to buy a new mower at Four Corners,” said Mr. Ames.
Norma had stood still while this talk was going on but she now called out: “I’ll try it once more. I’ll run it through the middle of the lawn where the cow grazed off some of the longest grass. Maybe it will cut there.”
So Norma blithely pushed the mower easily over the lawn with the blades passing over the tops of the grass instead of through them. Suddenly the machine ran against a fragment of broken bottle that was hidden in the grass. Norma was moving quickly at the time, but the unexpected obstruction stopped the mower with such force that the handle-bar struck her at the waist line doubling her half across the wooden bar and making her grunt loudly.
She let go her hold on the handle and held herself with both hands while she groaned: “Oh! I’m cut in two instead of the grass.”
Her friends laughed heartily at her remark but Norma had not said it as a joke and now she took offence at their mirth. To pacify the angry scout, Janet called out: “That settles the mower’s residence at Green Hill Farm! Away it goes and we buy a new one of Si Tompkins.” Everyone agreed to this and Frances was authorized to get a new machine the next time she went to Four Corners.
The troop of girls, having settled the momentous question of a lawn mower, now followed Ames to the barn yard to see the goslings they had heard Janet describe as being the cutest things she had ever seen.
“I brought you two dozen, Janet, as that is just about what a gander and the geese you wanted would cost,” explained Ames, as he began lifting the fluffy little things from the crate and placing them in the coop.
“My goodness, Mr. Ames! I don’t know what I shall do with twenty-four geese when they grow up. Just think of all the corn they will eat before Thanksgiving,” exclaimed Janet.
Sam had followed the girls when Ames drove to the barn yard, and he now said soothingly: “Neber mind dat, Miss Janet. Dey dies awful easy when dey is little. Chicken hawks love goslin’s, and so do black snakes. Cats are plentful in the country, too, and dey kills more chicks and goslin’s—my! Besides, lots will die of disease, so you won’t have to spend much money on corn by fall.”
“I don’t see any nourishment in that, after my money has been spent for the goslings!” snapped Janet, peevishly.
The girls laughed, and Natalie said: “But think of the good you will be doing the hawks and snakes and cats, by feeding them with goslings.”
“Janet, don’t let Sam or anyone else frighten you,” said Ames, as he patted Janet on the back. “You ain’t lost no chicks that way yet, have you?”
“Not that I know of. I never counted them to find out.”
“Well, if a chicken-hawk was about, you’d hear about it quick enough from the noise the hens and rooster would make to warn the chicks to run home. As for cats, you haven’t kept one and my house is the nearest neighbor and we haven’t a cat, so there!”
This cheered Janet considerably, and she decided to try and raise the two dozen goslings in spite of Sam’s pessimistic views to the contrary.
Having deposited the goslings in the coops, Mr. Ames passed the pig pen on his way to the wagon. He stopped a moment to look at them and then said: “Janet, you got to feed them more milk. Now you got a cow why spare the skim milk? Pigs need about four to six quarts of milk a day besides other feed.”
“You mean six for the three of them?” asked Janet.
“No. I mean six quarts for one. Why a tiny baby drinks two quarts of liquid before it is six months old, and pigs is hungrier critters than babies. You are starvin’ your pigs.”
“I’ll go straight away and ask Rachel if she has any skim milk on hand for them!” declared Janet, running for the house.
When Frances drove to the store that afternoon for the evening mail, she ordered a lawn mower from Mr. Tompkins and borrowed his, meantime. He laughed when she explained how they had hoped the cow would keep the grass cropped short enough to spare them any effort at mowing.
“You’ll find the cow’s hoofs cut up the sod so badly that your lawn will be ruined if she keeps on grazing there. The man who lived on the farm before you took great pride in those lawns. He was always fussing over them and never let folks walk on them until August.”