The road led them to Frank Snow’s place, where Hallie Girl, Mr. Snow’s collie, was up on her toes, wagging her tail and yipping to let Mr. Snow know about their visitors. They followed her to the tie-up behind the Big Barn, where Mr. Snow was milking Daisy, a black-and-white heifer.
“They say a storm is on its way,” Mr. Snow said. “What business takes you from a warm fireside?”
“I’m looking to make a trade,” Samuel’s father said, eyeing Daisy. He took out his shiny Barlow knife.
Mr. Snow stood up from the milking stool. He took Papa’s knife and opened it. He ran his finger along the sharp blade. “Jonathan,” he said, “I’d have use for a knife good as this. Would you take two tin lanterns in exchange?”
“I’d like to see them,” Papa said.
“They’re hanging on the wall in the back shed,” Mr. Snow said. “Samuel, would you bring them for your father to look at?”
Samuel and Hallie Girl found the lanterns just where Mr. Snow said they would be. He carried them back to the tie-up, stopping to throw three snowballs to Hallie Girl, who caught each one and ate it.
“What do you think, Samuel?” Papa asked. “Are these a good trade for a Barlow knife?”
Samuel took off his mittens and ran a finger along the sides of one of the lanterns. He opened and shut the little door and opened and shut it again. Then he did the same with the second lantern.
Samuel looked up at his father. “I think it would be a good trade.”
Mr. Snow and Papa smiled and shook hands. Mr. Snow shook Samuel’s hand too.
Hallie Girl yipped again—and when Samuel knelt down and let her lick his face, he wished, just a little bit, it wasn’t a brown-eyed cow his mother was wanting.
