Just outside of the
avenue gate they met a line of milch-cows en route for the "cuppen." They
moved swiftly as though there was purpose in their movements, and glanced
about with eager eyes. Slender streams of milk flowed from their swollen
teats, and marked their passage along the road-side. In barnyards near
calves were waiting, frantic to get at those same swollen teats. The black
boy who had them in charge opened the avenue gate for them, then stood and
looked after the soldiers, the very embodiment of shrewd, impish humor.
Hands burrowing in his pockets; his body, from the waist up, thrown back;
his mouth stretched in a broad grin, and indeed every feature replete
with fun. When they passed out of ear-shot, he put his thumb on the end of
his nose, and bawled out: "It's all in my eye, Betty Martin," and wound up
by turning somersaults on the grass by the roadside.
Later on the sun glared like a great ball of brass. Anon a light breeze
sprung up with a breath of moisture in it.
"That's good," said the oldest soldier, taking off his cap and baring his
forehead to it; "that's good. 'Twill make more bearable the rays of yonder
heater.
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