way down
this way?"

"Oh, we found them on some ranches on the line of the railroad further
back east. We paid a pretty good price for them, too. Down here the
ranchmen don't seem to understand the value of the Jersey cow; so when
we offered them a price that seemed the least bit extravagant, they
readily parted with them. We are going to get more of them, for milk and
butter sell readily all along the line of the road; but we don't sell
any buttermilk, though, for we let the little pigs have that, and the
little chickens, too. Jack had an experienced man to build a dairy house
in the latest approved style.

"Jack, is there any buttermilk in the dairy house now?" he asked.

"I don't know, sir; but I'll go and inquire." So he went to the dairyman
who had charge of the cows and the dairy house and found out that he had
about half a barrel of buttermilk, just a little bit sour.

"Then have him bring several bucketfuls out to the little pigs."

The dairyman brought two big pails full of the buttermilk and poured it
into a big sheet-iron receptacle, circular in form and about four inches
deep. The little pigs came running up to the gate, crying like little
pigs do when they smell food, and the gate was opened to let them get at
it, and every one, of course, stuck his nose into the buttermilk clear
up to his eyes, and they drank and pushed against each other until their
stomachs actually looked swollen.

Evelyn stood and looked on, her eyes fairly sparkling with delight. She
picked up several of the little fellows, who seemed to be used to being
handled. They behaved, of course, like all little pet pigs.

"Oh, what a sight!" she exclaimed. "How I do wish mother could see it."

"And Mary, too," added Terry.

"Yes, for she, too, is very fond of pigs and chickens, and milch cows."

When the little pigs couldn't drink any more buttermilk they were driven
back into the lot where the sows were, and then the big pans were shoved
in so that the sows could drink the balance. Then they showed Evelyn
where the ducks and geese were kept.

"Why in the world don't you let them run out and graze? Don't you know
that ducks and geese live on grass just like cows and horses?"

"Yes, but we haven't arranged for that yet. These ducks and geese were
bought by Jack, while we were up in New York and there is such a wide
range that he has been afraid, to turn them out to go where they please.
Then, the coyotes, too, are very fond of duc