as sometimes quite naughty when she
was milked, and this time she seemed to mean to be so; for, as
soon as Trusty got up to her, she set off and galloped up to
Sally. Then, just as Sally began to milk her, she walked on, and
left her and her stool behind, and very nearly knocked the pail
over besides. So Sally had to get up, and move stool and pail
onwards, and then she said, "Stand still, Frisky," and stroked
and patted her. So she stood still, and was very good.
"Now, Trusty, bring pretty Maggie," said Sally. Maggie was black
and white, and very gentle and pretty. She came directly, and
stood quite still, and was milked. Then they were all done.
Sally now lifted the pail, which was quite full, on her head, and
carried it so firmly and steadily, that she had not to put her
hand up to it, not even when she got over the stile, and in this
way she walked along back to the farm.
Then she went into the cool, fresh dairy, and Trusty lay down at
the door. The dairy had a stone shelf all round it, with shallow
round pans ranged along it, all filled with sweet, rich milk,
covered with thick, yellow cream. Here she took down her pail;
and first she filled a large jug with the new milk for breakfast.
She then poured all the rest into two or three pans, like the
others on the shelf. Next, she took a flat wooden spoon, and
skimmed the cream off several of the others, and poured it all
into a square wooden machine, called a churn. It had a handle
which turned round. She threw in some salt, and then began to
turn the handle round and round, and it turned a wheel inside,
and the wheel beat and splashed the cream round and round in the
churn. Presently she looked in, and said, "It's not come yet."
Then she turned the handle round again for some time. At last,
when she looked in, there was a large lump of fine fresh butter,
and all about it a thin white liquid, called butter-milk, and all
the cream was gone. She took out the butter, and put it into a
bowl of cold spring water, and made it up into three large rolls
with two flat wooden knives. Next she cut off three or four
slices, made them up into nice little rounds, and pressed them
with a wooden stamp, with a rose-bud and leaves cut out upon it,
and when she took it off, there were the rose-bud and leaves
marked on the butter.
Then Sally poured all the butter-milk, and all the milk from
which she had skimmed the cream, into a clean wooden pail, and
stirred in some barley m
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