Mom called to Maggie over the whine of the vacuum cleaner. "Please go
see why Corky is barking."
Maggie put down her toy horses and looked out the window. She saw a
gray car in the driveway. "It's Tim and Jodi," she cried as she ran to
the door.
Mom shut off the vacuum and pulled in the cord. "Oh, my," she said.
"What will I give them for lunch?"
Maggie didn't care what they ate. She was excited that she would have
someone to play with. Being an only child on a dairy farm could get
lonely.
The Johnson's small brown and white dog was jumping all over Maggie's
cousins before she reached them. "Corky, stop that," she ordered, but
the dog paid no attention.
Tim leaned over to pet Corky. "We don't mind," he said.
"We like dogs," added his younger sister, Jodi.
"Hello, Andersons," Mom called from the front door. "It's good to see
you." Maggie's mom hugged her sister.
"We've got a new bow and arrow set," Tim told Maggie. "Wait until you
see it."
Maggie hesitated. Tim was a year younger than she was, but he always
had some new toy she had never tried. It seemed she could never keep
up with him.
"A bow and arrows?" she repeated. "When did you get those?"
"The day school let out," he said with a grin. "Mom wanted us to stay
out of her hair for awhile."
"Well, did you?" Maggie asked.
"Sure," said Tim.
Jodi shook her head and said, "You still put a hole in her lawn
chair."
"Tattletale," Tim said, frowning. "Come on, Maggie. Let's see if
you're a good shot."
Maggie was not a good shot. Her arrows always dropped right in front
of her. She kept forgetting to let go of the bowstring when she let go
of the arrow. After dozens of tries, she had only hit the cardboard
target once. Even Jodi, who was only 6, did better than that. Tim hit
the target almost every time.
[Illustration]
After lunch the cousins climbed trees. Maggie was good at that, but
she never took crazy chances like Tim did. She often held her breath
and waited for him to fall, but he never did.
Later Maggie and the other kids found some old skis in the garage.
They skied around the grass until Maggie's dad yelled, "Hey, you guys.
Does that look like snow to you? Put those skis away, and Maggie, go
get the cows."
"We'll help," Tim said eagerly. "Where are they?"
"In the pasture," Maggie said, pointing out beyond the barn.
"Good, let's go," said Tim, starting off at a run. Maggie and Jodi
tried to keep up.
"Wait," Jodi begged. "My legs are too short."
Tim slowed down. "Okay," he agreed. "Maggie, it's a long ways to your
pasture. Do you do this every night?"
"Sure," said Maggie. "And it will be a fun job when I get my pony."
Tim stopped dead in his tracks, and Jodi hung back to stare at Maggie.
"A pony?" he gasped. "Did your dad say you could get one?"
Maggie had stopped, too. "Well ... not exactly," she admitted. "But
he's been saying 'when you're older' for a long time. Now I'm older."
Tim snorted and moved on. "Big deal," he said. "My dad says that too
when I'm never going to get something."
Now they could see the herd of black and white Holsteins ahead. "I
_am_ going to get a pony," Maggie almost shouted. "You'll see."