176 WHEAT AND WOMAN 



will do the horses good and I don't mind doing the 

 chores." 



" Guess a day off won't do 'em any harm. I'll 

 hitch up and get right on down as soon as I've fed 

 oats." 



" But ain't you going to the picnic ? " fairly 

 screamed the Good Samaritan. 



I explained that I ought to be going to Mrs. 

 Millington's Victoria dance, and that I didn't 

 want Nancy to make the two journeys. 



" Shame you should miss it, though ! It will 

 keep us guessin' to pack our kids in the buggy or 

 I'd ask you to go down with us. Why don't you 

 ride down horseback ? Is it because you've got 

 nothing to take ? We all take something ; cakes 

 or cream or butter or sandwiches. It's all put on 

 the table together, and you take what you like. 

 Mother could help you out with two jelly cakes, 

 I guess. Or take a pound of butter. My, but 

 your butter is all right ! " 



It was a warm, sweet-scented, glowing, growing, 

 Victoria Day. There was no cooking. I measured 

 up oats all round, took a sun-bath on the veranda 

 with my morning tea, and dallied with the decision 

 of the dance. To keep the horses in all day was out 

 of the question. Yet if they had their honest 

 share in holiday joy which beckoned from the 

 forty-acre pasture, I should have to bring them in, 

 feed them, round up the two cows, milk them, 

 catch Nancy by hook or crook, harness her, get into 

 an evening gown, drive seven miles, in an open 

 buggy, to the hospitable house on the lake shore, 

 where for several hours, one would breath again the 

 atmosphere and charm of gaiety unflecked with 



