in the fertilizer storeroom and got herself an
overdose of some of them minerals in that stuff.

"What are you staring at, you old fool," she glared at Barney. "It
ain't gold." Hetty laid the egg at one side of the table. She walked to
the sink and took a clean, two-gallon milk can from the drainboard and
set it in the sink to fill it from the pails of rich, frothy milk
Barney had brought in the pails.

"Sally come fresh this morning, Miz Thompson," he said. "Got herself a
real fine little bull calf."

Hetty looked at the two pails of milk. "Well, where's the rest of the
milk, then?"

"That's Queenie's milk," Barney said. "Sally's is still out on the
porch."

"Well bring it in before the sun clabbers it."

"Can't," Barney said.

Hetty swung around and glared at him. "What do you mean, you can't? You
suddenly come down with the glanders?"

"No'm, it's just that Sally's milk ain't no good," he replied.

* * * * *

A frown spread over Hetty's face as she hoisted one of the milk pails
and began pouring into the can in the sink. "What's wrong with it,
Barney? Sally seem sick or something?" she asked.

Barney scratched his head. "I don't rightly know, Miz Thompson. That
milk looks all right, or at least, almost all right. It's kinda thin
and don't have no foam like you'd expect milk to have. But mostly, it
sure don't smell right and it danged well don't taste right.

"_Phooey._" He made a face at the memory of the taste. "I stuck my
finger in it when it looked kinda queer, and took a taste. It shore
tasted lousy."

"You probably been currying that mangey old horse of yours before you
went to milking," Hetty snorted, "and tasted his cancerous old hide on
your fingers. I've told you for the last time to wash your hands before
you go to milking them cows. I didn't pay no eighteen hundred dollars
for that prize, registered Guernsey just to have you give her bag fever
with your dirty hands."

"That ain't so, Miz Thompson," Barney cried indignantly. "I did too,
wash my hands. Good, too. I wuzn't near my horse this morning. That
milk just weren't no good."

Hetty finished pouring the milk into the cans and after putting the
cans in the refrigerator, wiped her hands on her jeans and went out
onto the porch, Barney trailing behind her. She bent over and sniffed
at the two milk pails setting beside the door. "_Whew_," she
exclaimed, "it sure does smell funny. Hand me that dip