AN ANIMAL HUNT
But the proposed hunt for the cow did not take place the following day
as Mrs. James had said it would, because a postcard arrived on the
late mail announcing the appearance of Sam, Rachel’s nephew, on the
first train from the city which would stop at Four Corners.
Rachel was overjoyed at the news, and Mrs. James thought it best to
send the automobile to meet Sam in case he had not been given specific
directions of how to find the farm. This plan would interfere with the
scouts driving about the country in search for their cow.
When Frances started for the station in the morning, the other girls
accompanied her, as they purposed a visit to Nancy Sherman and Hester
Tompkins to interest them in the corporation. They became so
interested in this absorbing topic that the incoming train was
forgotten. When it was remembered and the girls hastened to reach the
station, they found the train had been in and gone again, some time
before they got there.
“We’ll overtake him on the road to Green Hill anyway,” remarked
Frances, as she started the automobile back along the road to the
farm.
They did not waste time to stop at the store that time and thus they
missed Sam who did stop there to ask the way. But they drove on until
they reached the house. Mrs. James was over at the Camp and Rachel was
leaning over the gate waiting for her nephew when the girls drove up
and learned that Sam had not yet appeared on the scene.
“Shall we go back and hunt for him?” asked Natalie.
“Dear me, it’s so much time lost when we want to drive to Dorothy
Ames’s and see if she will join our corporation,” said Janet,
impatiently.
“You’se go right on, Chillun, ’cause I likes to have Sam to myself,
foh a bit, after he comes,” announced Rachel when she saw the girls
wanted to be off on their own affairs.
Without being urged, the girls drove away and secured Dorothy’s
consent to share the cow with the other scouts. It was while driving
to Dorothy’s that the girls picked up the dog, Grit, the account of
which is fully told in the first book, “Natalie: A Garden Scout.”
That afternoon, when Mrs. James invited Sam to go with them the next
day and help in selecting the cow, Sam laughed.
“I ain’t never seen a cow closer’n fifty feet, Miss James—dat is, in
drivin’ past a lot where cows eat, or going by a farm while travelin’
in a train or trolley. So I don’t know a hefer from an old cow,” he
explained.
“Then we have to take chances,” was Mrs. James’ reply.
When the party was crowded into the automobile and ready to start on
the momentous search, Sam stood waiting to see them off, and was ready
with advice: “Don’t let Wes’chester farmers play you a trick. I’ve
heard say you can tell a cow’s age by her horns but maybe that was a
vaudevilly joke.”
The car sped through country by-ways, and woodland roads; they passed
farms and pastures galore, stopping wherever a herd of cows were
grazing, or when they found one wandering along the roadside. But Mrs.
James generally shook her head and signalled Frances to go on.
After several of these stops, all of which brought forth no results,
Janet asked impatiently: “What was the matter with those last cows,
Jimmy?”
“I am looking for a good Alderney, or a cross with a Guernsey, because
they are the best milkers and need the least care.”
“Why, Jimmy! Can you tell the difference between one cow and another?”
exclaimed Natalie, astonished at her chaperone’s hitherto hidden
knowledge.
“I had both kinds on the farm when I was first married, and I can tell
a good cow when I see one.”
Mrs. James went up several degrees in the girls’ estimation after
that, but when Miss Mason called out, they forgot their interest in
what Mrs. James was saying.
“We just flew past a board sign that advertised a cow and calf for
sale! Let’s turn back and inquire of the farmer,” was Miss Mason’s
advice.
So they backed down the road for several hundred feet and read the
sign. It was nailed to the fence post in front of the house and stated
just as Miss Mason had said.
“Oh, wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could buy a little calf and keep it
until next year! A calf ought to be cheap and it will grow into a cow
by next year, so it would be a bargain for me,” exclaimed Janet,
eagerly.
But the others in the car were too engrossed in the immediate purchase
of the cow to pay any attention to Janet’s hopes for raising a cow for
the following year. Frances deftly turned the car into the lane that
ran to the barn where the farmer stood watching them drive up.
Mrs. James returned his salute of “How-dy?” and then said: “We came to
see about the cow you have advertised for sale.”
“Are you lookin’ fer someone else, er for yourself, Lady?” queried the
man.
“What difference would that make?” countered Mrs. James.
“Wall, sometimes, folks just ask prices and then go tell their real
buyers who come along and offer half the price.”
“Oh, do you have two prices, then?” asked Miss Mason.
“Not when you buy for yourself. When you shop fer friends I ask more,”
was the man’s reply.
The girls thought this was very funny so they laughed, but the elder
women frowned with disapproval. Still they waited to hear the price of
the cow.
“Ef you are interested, just step this way and I will show you the
critter. She’s out at pastoor, just now,” said the man.
They all got out of the car and followed the farmer down a narrow lane
that ran to the lot at the further end of the farm. As they went, Mrs.
James warned them wisely: “I think we have a Shylock to deal with,
girls, so don’t you dare show any admiration or interest in his cows,
or he will ask double the price. Leave the whole matter to me and I
will bargain with him if we want the animal.”
“Jimmy, I fear you are a Shylock yourself since we came to take up
farm life,” laughed Natalie.
“In this case it’s ‘when in Rome do as the Romans do,’” was the
retort.
The farmer now reached the rail fence that enclosed the pasture, and
lowered the bars to permit his visitors to pass within. As he walked
beside Mrs. James, he pointed out a cow standing in one corner of the
lot. “That’s the one for sale. She’s the best milker and the gentlest
creature I’ve got. I’m real sorry to part with her.”
“Why do you do it, then?” asked Janet, bluntly.
“’Cause I got too many to care for and folks don’t want to buy a poor
milker, you know. They wants to get one of your best, so I decided to
give her up if she brought the price.”
“What is her price?” asked Miss Mason, but Mrs. James said nothing.
The farmer mentioned an outrageous sum and the ladies merely looked at
him. Then Mrs. James said: “I only wanted to buy one cow—not pay you
for the herd.”
She turned to go back up the lane, followed by the girls and Miss
Mason. The latter was smiling at her companion’s remark.
“You don’t know what you’re turning down, Ma’am, when you think that
price too high,” argued the farmer.
“I know that that is an old cow of a common breed. I want a cow of not
more than four years of age, a cross between an Alderney and a
Guernsey—or perhaps a strain of Jersey in her. And I won’t pay more
than half the price you ask for that beef,” was Mrs. James’ retort.
“Wouldn’t you care to look at any of the others as long as you are
here?” anxiously asked the man, seeing his customer was going away.
“No, I didn’t see a single cow in that lot that I’d pay to feed.”
“You said you had a calf for sale, but I did not see any,” was Janet’s
comment at this point.
“I don’t keep the calf in the lot with the big cows. Do you want to
see her?”
“What are you asking for the calf?” was Mrs. James’ reply. He
mentioned a price, and the girls nudged Mrs. James to have a look at
it.
The farmer led them to a small pen separated from the barns but near
enough to be convenient for him. When they reached the fence they saw
a little woolly calf, fat and cute as could be.
“Oh, how darling!” cried Janet, instantly in love with it.
“Isn’t it too sweet for anything!” added Natalie, clasping her hands
in admiration.
“How I’d love to pat its woolly head,” said Norma.
Mrs. James had Belle and Frances on either side of her, so she managed
to pinch them to keep them from expressing their sentiments so
plainly. But they, too, thought the calf very fascinating. The
appointed judge of the group then tried to impress the farmer with her
knowledge of calves.
“He has very thin legs, I see.”
“Why, did you ever see a calf of her age with bigger legs. That’s a
she, you know. In another month’s time you wouldn’t know that calf,
she’d be so strong and husky.”
Mrs. James felt silenced at being trapped by the wrong use of a
pronoun, so she changed the current of her criticisms. “How much does
she cost you for keep on an average per day?”
The farmer mentioned a ridiculously low figure that Mrs. James
derided, but she asked for the very lowest price of the calf. Perhaps
she would not have done this had not Janet so persistently poked her
in the back.
The girls thought the price very cheap, indeed, and their faces
plainly said so. But Mrs. James shook her head. “You are asking a
price for a six month’s old calf. This young thing is not worth more
than half your price.”
After much bargaining, the farmer came down one-third of his first
asking price, and Janet frowned severely at Mrs. James to let her know
she was to take the little creature.
“Well, I’ll take her if you agree to deliver her,” said she, finally.
All faces lighted up and smiled once more.
“How fer do you live from here?” asked the farmer.
“About ten to twelve miles—over at Green Hill Farm.”
“Hoh, that’s too far for me to go for nothing. Make it an extra three
dollars and I’ll deliver Susy.”
“Not another cent above the price agreed for the calf. I know it is
too late in the season for you to dispose of Susy in a hurry, and we
are not over-anxious to buy a calf and then have all the trouble of
getting her home. We really wanted a cow, you know.”
“Well, seeing how bad these girls want the calf, I’ll see if I can get
her over to your place for a dollar!”
Mrs. James started for the roadway without saying a word in return to
the farmer’s inuendoes, and the girls feared lest the calf be lost to
them. But they had never traded with farmers before, so they were not
versed in the various customs of trade.
The farmer followed them to the car but just as Mrs. James was
stepping in, he said: “When do you want the calf delivered at Green
Hill?”
“Tomorrow or next day,” was the reply, as if there had been no
question of the man’s delivering the calf.
“If Saturday would do I would prefer it, as I drive to White Plains
every Saturday, and can drop the calf on my way there.”
“All right, Saturday will do for us, too. Remember the price you
quoted to me—I have several witnesses who heard what you said.”
“But I didn’t say this sale was C. O. D.!” cried the farmer. “I
thought you wanted it to be a cash sale.”
“I didn’t expect to buy a calf when I started out today, but I need a
cow, and I have to keep my money for that. If I get the cow cheaper
than I am ready to pay, I will stop here on my way home and leave a
deposit for the calf,” explained Mrs. James.
“Can’t you pay ten or five dollars down now?” asked the farmer
anxiously.
“I’ll do exactly as I said—stop here on my way back, even if it takes
me miles out of the way. I’ll either leave some money then, or you
will be at liberty to sell the calf to some one else.”
Mrs. James told Frances to drive on, and the man was left watching
them go down the road. Janet seemed to think the calf was lost to
them, because no money had been paid on it.
They passed several other farms before they turned to a country road
that was said to be a shortcut to Peekskill. They had not traveled
this road more than two miles before they passed a wretched little
house with a few acres of untilled soil about it. On the corner of the
house was a sign that read: “Fine cow for sale cheap.”
“That’s the breed we are looking for,” laughed Miss Mason.
“Girls, for goodness sake don’t nudge me into pieces if you like the
looks of this cow!” commanded Mrs. James, as she got down out of the
car.
The girls trailed after Mrs. James as she went to the side door where
a lad sat digging in the dirt. She stopped and said: “Where is your
father, little boy?”
“I dunno! Nobody knows.”
This was a poser and the girls giggled, but Mrs. James changed her
form of question: “Can I see your mother?”
“Ain’t got no mudder. Ain’t got nobuddy but Jipson.”
This unexpected reply brought a chorus of laughter from the girls, and
a smile from Mrs. James. Before she could ask another form of
question, however, a towseled head was thrust from a dormer-window and
a woman called down: “Who’sat, Bobby?”
The boy looked up and said phlegmatically: “Dunno.”
“What they want?” continued the woman.
“Want my fodder, den she wants my mudder.”
The head was withdrawn and soon afterward its owner came out upon the
steps and greeted the strangers. Then she said: “Bobby’s mother died
at the alms house, you know, but we don’t know where his father ran to
a year ago.”
Mrs. James said politely: “We’re sorry for Bobby but we came to ask
about the cow you have for sale.”
“Oh, yeh! That’s it, is it. Well come this way and I’ll show her to
you. She ain’t so big a looker but she milks dandy! I get ten quarts
every day and twelve just after she calves. I just sold her calf and
she’s givin’ me thirteen quarts this week.”
“That sounds very remarkable, but we want a cow that will give an
abundance of good milk,” said Miss Mason.
“Is the milk rich with cream?” questioned Mrs. James, after nudging
the teacher even as the girls had nudged her at the other farm.
“Yeh, I can churn the finest butter! I’ll give you a taste when we go
back to the house.” They reached the cow shed where the animal was
kept, and there they saw a small cow in the filthy yard back of the
shed.
“Here Sue! Come Sue, Sue, Sue!” coaxed the woman, holding down her
hand as though she held some dainty morsel in the palm.
The cow turned and came over to the fence where she could be examined.
While the woman scratched the top of the cow’s head she explained why
she wished to sell Sue. “That boy back there ain’t got no family, but
his granddaddy lives on a good farm up Bedford Hills way. I got a
letter from him t’other day offering me half shares on working the
farm if I brung the boy and kept house for them both. He is an old
lame man and the farm is good, so I took the job. This farm ain’t wuth
shucks for a living.”
“And that is why you want to sell the cow, Miss Jipson?” asked Miss
Mason.
“Yeh. She just had a calf, but I sold it to a man down on the main
road yesterday.”
“Is the man’s name Folsom?” asked Mrs. James.
“Yeh—Ed Folsom. He makes money on buyin’ up cows and calves and
sellin’ them again. But he wouldn’t pay a decent price for Sue so I
wouldn’t let him take her. But he wants her bad.”
“I am inclined to think we just bought Sue’s calf. He said the name
was Susy. Perhaps you named her after the mother,” remarked Mrs.
James.
“Yeh, that’s right! Her name is Susy. And you say you bought her?
Ain’t that queer that you come and want Sue, too.” Then as an
afterthought flashed into her mind, she asked: “What did Ed Folsom ask
you for Susy?”
Mrs. James told her the price and instantly Miss Jipson flared up
angrily.
“Why the old skinflint! He wouldn’t pay me but half that price, and he
promised faithful that he’d keep Susy for his own use and never sell
her to some one who might butcher her!”
“We will take better care of her than he would, Miss Jipson, but he
had no right to break his word to you,” said Mrs. James.
“I’d rather you did have her, ’cause Susy is a good little calf, but
it makes me mad to think of all you had to pay for her. Now what about
the cow?”
“Well, to be truthful, Miss Jipson, I wanted an Alderney or Guernsey,
and this cow looks too small to be either, or a cross of either one.”
“No, she ain’t. She’s just plain cow but the best kind I ever saw.
Bobby’s father raised her from a calf, and her mother was just such a
good milker, too. You’ll find Susy will grow into as fine a cow, too.”
“What price are you asking for Sue?” now asked Mrs. James.
“Sue is like one of my own fam’ly and I would rather sell her to you
for a good home, than to Folsom with his lies. If you got Susy, you
oughta have Sue, too. So I will sell her for one hundred dollars.”
“When can you milk her for us?” was Mrs. James’ next question.
“Right now, if you like. I milked her early this morning, so she won’t
give half as much milk as she will by night time, but you can see how
gentle she is and how easy to milk.”
Then Sue was brought out and milked to every one’s satisfaction. When
they were back at the house again, Miss Jipson said: “If you could
call some early morning or late evening you could see the amount she
milks.”
“We’ll take your word for it, Miss Jipson. But how can we get her over
to our farm?” said Mrs. James.
“Ain’t Folsom going to carry the calf over for you?” asked the woman.
“True! We’ll make him bring the cow for nothing because he took
advantage of you,” declared Miss Mason, eagerly.
“That we will!” was Mrs. James’ approval. Then she added as she
remembered: “Can you take Sue to his farm before Saturday morning?”
“Sure! And he can collect the pay for me after you try the cow and are
satisfied that what I said is so.”
“No, my good woman, we will pay you now for the cow, and you can give
us a receipt and state that the cow will be sent to Folsom’s farm for
delivery to us at Green Hill Farm. I’ll see to the rest, never worry.”
“Now that’s what I calls right good of you—all. If I only hadn’t sold
Susy to Folsom I’d like to have sold her to you folks.”
“You can cheer yourself with the knowledge that we have Susy as well
as her mother, and both will have good kind treatment,” was Mrs.
James’ reply.
Then the money was paid down and a receipt taken from Miss Jipson who
puzzled quite a little over the strange name of “Solomon’s Seal
Troop.”
Having purchased the object of their morning’s tour, the amateur
farmers drove back along the road they had come. When they came to
Folsom’s farm again, Mrs. James had Frances stop the car. She sent
Janet to the house to ask the farmer to step out to the automobile.
While Janet was absent, Mrs. James asked Miss Mason for her fountain
pen and a scrap of paper.
The teacher always carried a small pen and a pad in her hand-bag, so
she gave it to Mrs. James and watched while the latter wrote a short
agreement to be signed by Folsom. Then Janet came back, followed by
the farmer.
Mrs. James saw the delighted smile on the man’s face and wondered at
it. His first words showed his mistake, however.
“I see you’ve come back to buy my cow!”
“Your sight is defective, Mr. Folsom,” retorted Mrs. James.
“Oh,—was it the calf you want to pay for?” he spoke rather
disappointedly.
“No, we stopped to tell you that we bought Susy’s mother not half an
hour ago, and we know what you paid for the calf not twenty-four hours
ago. Had we paid your asking price you would have cleared two hundred
per cent on the deal. As it is you made one hundred per cent profit.
Rather a good transaction for no cost or labor to you.”
“But you thought you had a good calf for a fair price!”
“I am not gainsaying that, but I am here now to say we do not want
Susy, at all, unless you agree to bring the cow at the same time, on
Saturday, without charge to Miss Jipson or to us.”
Ed Folsom shook his head and smiled. “Nope! I could have sold that
calf after you left for more than you offered, but I am too honest for
my own good, so I refused because I knew these gals were crazy for
Susy.”
“That’s too bad—that you lost a sale. Because we now have a cow, and
that is what we came for today. The calf is a toy. We can get along
without the toy unless you want to act fairly in this matter,” said
Mrs. James.
“You told us that you had to drive to White Plains on Saturday, so it
is not far out of your way,” added Miss Mason.
The farmer see-sawed back and forth on his toes for a few moments as
if considering the case, then he said: “Well, if you pay spot cash for
Susy I’ll bring the old cow along for two dollars.”
“Sorry to have wasted our time and yours. Good day,” was Mrs. James’
answer. “Drive on, Frances.”
Frances was about to start the engine when Folsom jumped up on the
running board: “Hold on, won’t you! I never did see any one in such a
hurry to lose a bargain!”
“What’s the matter?” asked Mrs. James guilelessly.
“About that calf—do you want her or don’t you?”
“How useless to ask? If we had not wanted her would we have told you
to deliver her on Saturday?”
“Well, then, I’ll bring the old cow along, but I want pay for the calf
now. You might back out of the sale.”
“I can’t pay all cash now, as we paid for the cow. But I will leave a
deposit of five dollars and you can collect the balance when you
deliver the calf and the cow!” said Mrs. James.
“Ten or nothing!” demanded Folsom.
“All right. Good day. Drive on, Frances.”
“Give me the five and good riddance!” snarled Folsom as angry as he
ever had been over a trade.
“Sign this receipt and I’ll hand you the five dollars,” was Mrs.
James’ sweet reply, as she took a new five-dollar bill from her purse.
Mr. Folsom read the slip of paper, signed it, then handed it back so
Mrs. James offered him the money. The moment he had the bill in his
hand, he jumped from the running board and jeered:
“I hope I never meet such a Shylock again. We folks would have to go
out of business if many women were as close as you!”
Mrs. James leaned out of the car and sweetly replied: “That is the
greatest compliment ever paid me. I am considered to be such a
soft-hearted being that my friends always have to warn me of being
duped. Now I can hold up my head with the best of you traders.”
The girls laughed merrily as they started the car on its homeward
journey, and Janet said: “Funny how we called Folsom a Shylock, and
then he returned the compliment.”