"What are you going to do to-day?" asked Bobby one morning.
Father looked across the table with a twinkle in his eye.
"Prince and Daisy and I are going to help make bread to-day, Bobby,"
said he.
"Why, father," said Bobby, "you cannot make bread and horses cannot
make bread."
"I did not say we were going to make it alone," said father. "I said we
were going to help."
"Mother makes the bread. She makes it in the kitchen," said Bobby.
"But we are going to help," said father.
"Can Prince and Daisy come into the kitchen?" asked Bobby.
"No, they will not come into the kitchen," said father. "They truly
will help, though. Would you like to see them?"
"Yes," said Bobby. "That would be fun."
"Come down to the field below the barn with me," said father.
So Bobby ran along beside father down the lane to the Old Red Barn.
Father harnessed Prince and Daisy, drove them to the field below the
barn and hitched them to a tool with a shiny steel point.
"But, father, that is a plow," said Bobby. "Mother does not make bread
with a plow. She makes it in a pan and stirs it with a big spoon."
"That is true," said father, "but we shall help to make bread with a
plow."
Soon father started the horses while he held the handles of the plow so
its shiny steel point would dig down into the hard earth.
Straight to the other end of the field they went, leaving behind them a
long furrow of brown fresh earth.
Back they came toward Bobby, making another furrow. And so back and
forth, back and forth, all the forenoon they went.
Bobby sometimes trudged along by father, sometimes he rested at the
end of the field.
Bobby was watching very hard. At last he said, "Father, there is not
any bread yet. When shall I see the bread?"
"It takes a long time to make bread from this brown earth," said
father.
"Does it take all day?" said Bobby, who was beginning to get tired.
"Yes, it takes more than a day," said father. "It takes about a year."
"I think mother's way is better," said Bobby. "It takes her only one
day."
"But mother could not make bread at all, if we did not help," said
father.
"Oh, indeed, she does," said Bobby. "I have seen her make it all
alone."
"Bobby," said father, "of what does mother make our bread?"
Now Bobby was only six years old, but he had often watched mother make
bread.
"She makes it from flour," said he.
"What is the flour made from?" asked father.
"The miller grinds it from wheat," said Bobby.
"And where does the wheat come from?" asked father.
"It grows in the field," said Bobby.
"So far you are right, Bobby," said father. "Now look at the ground
over there where I have not yet plowed. Would wheat grow if I sowed it
there?"
"I suppose not," said Bobby.
"No, indeed," said father. "It would lie on top of the ground and
wither and die; but when I sow it in the soft earth which Prince and
Daisy have plowed, it will grow."
"Now I see," said Bobby, "Prince and Daisy do truly help to make
bread."
"You are good horses," said he, patting them on their noses.
Just then the dinner bell rang.
"Come, Bobby," said father. "We will take Prince and Daisy to the barn
and give them hay and oats. Then you and I will go up to the house and
eat some of mother's nice bread."
"Oh, father," said Bobby, "you forgot. It is Prince and Daisy's bread
too."
[Illustration: ROVER BRINGS THE COWS FROM PASTURE]
V
Down on Cloverfield Farm the afternoon sun was sinking toward the West.
The swallows were coming home to their nests in the barn and a gentle
breeze was starting the windmill.
Farmer Hill looked at his watch; then he went to the bars at the head
of the long lane and began putting them down.
Rover, seeing this, came running up to him. "Yes, Rover," said Farmer
Hill, "it is time to go for the cows."
Down the long lane trotted Rover, past the apple orchard, past the
clover field, past the field of wheat stubble, to the thirteen-acre
lot.
In the farthest corner of the field, with her feet in the cool water of
the pond, was the Big Red Cow. Near-by, under the elm trees, were all
the other cows lying on the grass.
Straight to the Big Red Cow ran Rover and barked. The cow knew what
that meant. It said, "You must go home to the barn." So she started
toward the lane.
Then all the other cows followed.
Rover came trotting along behind, barking sometimes if they tried to
turn back.
So they all went up the long, long lane toward the old red barn--the
Big Red Cow, the White Cow, the Black Cow, the two Speckled Cows and
the Little Red Cow.
[Illustration: "'You must go home to the barn'"]
Past the field of wheat stubble, past the clover field, and along the
orchard fence, they went.
As they came near the harvest apple tree, the Big Red Cow smelled the
apples. Now next to fresh green corn, cows like apples better than
anything else. So the Big Red Cow tried to jump over the rail fence, to
get some apples.
She might have gotten over; but Rover ran up to her and barked and
snapped at her heels with his sharp teeth, until she started on again.
So all the cows went up the lane and through the bars into the
barn-yard. They drank the cool water in the watering trough and then
went into their stalls in the stable.