Eleven

Mr. Buxton was in his barn, beginning evening chores. “Good to see you,” he called. “A welcome surprise. Stay for supper. Two more would be no trouble at all.”

Samuel’s hands had gotten cold on the ride over, even though Mrs. Everett had dried his mittens. He half hoped Papa would say yes.

“Thank you,” said Papa. “We need to be on our way. But we’re in hopes of a trade. We’ve found ourselves with a pony and cart.”

“Jim Everett’s?” Mr. Buxton said. “I’ve been meaning to ask him about that cart. My Peggy is almost old enough to drive it. It would be a help if she could get herself to school in the morning.”

“Yes,” said Papa. “The pony seems even-tempered.”

Mr. Buxton jabbed his pitchfork into a haystack. “I wonder if you might be interested in trading for one of the young calves,” he said. “Your boy could fatten it up for a year. She’d bring a good price at market.”

Samuel thought of taking care of a merino sheep and a young calf on top of all his other chores.

“That would be a good trade,” Papa said, “and Samuel would be a good hand at it. But we were in hopes of going home with a milk cow.”

“That right, Samuel?” said Mr. Buxton.

“Yes, sir,” said Samuel.

“You’re not wanting that pony?”

Samuel looked at his papa, then at Mr. Buxton. “I do want the pony, but we need a milk cow.”

“You have a baby sister at home, don’t you?”

Samuel nodded.

“Jonathan,” Mr. Buxton said, “it’s a joy to any man to see his child grow like your young Samuel. He’s taken a man’s part, and you should be proud of him.”

Papa nodded. Samuel knew he was.

“I believe I could part with one of my milkers,” said Mr. Buxton, “seeing that Peggy would dearly love this pony and cart. Come to the tie-up and choose one that pleases you.”

Samuel got off the cart. He wiped the snow off Dolly’s back and he kissed her once, on the nose. Then he followed Papa into the barn.

They looked at two long rows of cows, all mooing for their supper. “What do you think, Samuel?” Papa said. “Which one do you like best?”

“And Samuel,” said Mr. Buxton, “when you’re done, I’ve got something else for you to choose.”