Читать книгу More Adventures on Willow Farm - Enid blyton - Страница 6

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“You know, I must get a couple of strong horses for light work,” said the farmer, one morning at breakfast, as the children were hurrying to get off to school. Rory had gone out to get the donkeys, so he was not there. “It’s silly to use our big shire-horses for light cart-work. We really could do with a couple of smaller horses.”

“Oooh, how lovely!” said Penny, who always welcomed any addition to the farm’s livestock. “Oh, Daddy, do let me go with you.”

“I shall go on Wednesday afternoon,” said her father. “It’s market-day then. You’ll be at school, little Penny.”

“I shan’t, I shan’t!” squeaked Penny. “It’s a half-holiday this week. I shall come with you. I do love market-day. Will you use one of the new horses for the milk-round, Daddy?”

“Yes, I shall,” said her father. The children were all very interested in the sale of their milk. Some of it was cooled, and put into big churns to be sent away to the large towns—and some of it was delivered to people near by who were willing to buy the good creamy milk of the farm.

Sometimes their father grumbled and sighed because he had so many papers to fill in about his cows and their milk. He had inspectors to examine his cow-sheds, and other men to examine and test his cows to make sure they were healthy.

“You see,” he explained to the children, “I want my milk to be as perfect as it can be, free from any bad germs that might make people ill. Well, you can only get milk like that if you buy the right cows who come of a good stock, and are healthy and strong, and good milkers. Our cows are fine, but our cow-sheds could be made much better.”

“How could they, Daddy?” asked Benjy, in surprise. He always liked the old, rather dark cow-sheds. They smelt of cow, and it was cosy in there, milking on a winter’s day, whilst the cows munched away happily.

“I’d like to take them down and put up clean, airy sheds,” said his father. “I’d like cow-sheds where you could eat your dinner off the floor, it would be so clean! Well—maybe if I get a good price for the potatoes I’ve got stored, I can think about the cow-sheds. And you can help me then, Benjy, and Rory! We’ll think out some lovely sheds, and get books to see what kind are the best.”

“Oooh yes,” said Benjy. “We’d have more cows then, wouldn’t we, Daddy? Sixteen isn’t very many, really, though it seemed a lot at first. Daddy, I wish you’d let me and Rory do the milk-round on Saturdays once or twice. It would be such fun.”

“Oh no—Jim has time enough for that,” said his father. “But if he’s ever too busy, as he may be when the spring comes again, I’ll let you try. You had better go with him once or twice to see what he does.”

“Can we all go to the market with you to buy our new horses?” asked Sheila eagerly.

“Yes, if you like,” said their father. “Now, off to school, or you’ll be late. Look—there are your donkeys at the door, waiting for you.”

“Sheila! Benjy! Penny!” shouted Rory impatiently from outside. “Aren’t you ever coming?”

The children tore out to their donkeys. “Hallo, Canter!” said Sheila, giving him a lump of sugar. “Did you sleep well?”

“Frrrrupmh!” said the donkey, nuzzling against Sheila’s shoulder.

“He said yes, he had an awfully good night,” said Sheila to the others.

Penny turned to her donkey too. “Did you sleep well, darling Hee-Haw?” she asked.

“Frrrrumph!” said her donkey too, and tried to nibble at her sleeve.

“Oh, Hee-Haw didn’t have a good night at all,” said Penny solemnly, turning to the others. “He says a mouse ran over his back all night long.”

The others laughed. “Now don’t you begin making up things like Sheila!” said Rory. “Do come on, Sheila. What’s the matter? Is your saddle loose?”

“A bit,” said Sheila, tightening it. “Rory, Daddy’s going to the market on Wednesday to buy two new light horses—not cart-horses—and we can go with him!”

“Good!” said Rory, galloping off in front. “I love the market. Get up, Neddy, get up—you’re not as fast as you usually are, this morning!”

The children were glad when they galloped home after morning school on Wednesday. A half-holiday was always nice—but going to the market made it even nicer. They ate a hurried lunch, and then went out to get their donkeys again. Their father set off in his car and told them where to meet him.

The donkeys were ready for a run, and a run they had, for it was quite a long way to the town where the market was held. The little fat grey creatures were glad to be tethered to a post when the children arrived at the market. Rory went round them to make sure they were safely tethered, for it would not be easy to trace a lost donkey in a big crowded market.

They soon found their father, who was talking to a man about the horses he needed. He went to the part of the market where patient horses were standing ready for sale. The boys went with him and the girls went to look at some fat geese cackling nearby. There were no geese at Willow Farm, and Sheila longed to have some to add to her hens and ducks.

“They only eat things like grass, you know,” said Sheila. “They are awfully cheap to keep.”

“They’re very hissy, aren’t they?” said Penny, who wasn’t quite sure about the big birds. “Hissy and cackly.”

“You are a baby, Penny!” laughed Sheila. “You always say that when you see geese. Why shouldn’t they hiss and cackle? It’s their way of talking.”

“What are they saying?” asked Penny, looking at the big birds.

“They’re saying, ‘Ss-ss-sss-it’s funny Penny’s frightened of us-ss-ss-sss!’ ” said Sheila solemnly.

Meanwhile the boys were looking at horses with their father and his farmer friend. Horses of all colours and sizes were paraded up and down in front of them. Benjy liked a little brown one with gentle eyes. She had good legs and he was sure she was just the right horse for the milk-round.

“She’d be good for the milk-round, Daddy,” he said. “I’m sure she’d soon learn what houses to stop at without being told!”

“Oh, it’s for a milk-round you want her, is it?” said the man.

“Among other things,” answered the farmer.

“You can’t do better than have that little brown horse then,” said the man. “She’s been used to a milk-round already. She’s strong and healthy, and as gentle as a lamb.”

So little Darky was chosen, and Benjy was delighted. He mounted her at once and she put her head round and looked at him inquiringly out of her large brown eyes, as if to say, “Hallo! I’m yours now, am I?”

The other horse chosen was an ugly fellow, but healthy and good-tempered. He was brown and white in patches, and had long legs and bony hindquarters. He moved in an ungainly manner, but it was plain that he had great strength.

“He’s a good stayer,” said the man who owned him. “He’ll work till he drops. He’s done more work on my farm than any other horse, and that’s saying something. I wish I hadn’t to let him go—but I need cart-horses, not light horses.”

So Patchy was bought too, at a fair price, and the man promised to take them both back to the farm that evening. Rory paused to look at a magnificently-built horse in a near-by stall. The horse looked at him and then rolled his eyes so that the whites showed.

“Daddy, this is the finest-looking horse in the market,” said Rory. “I wonder why he isn’t sold!”

“He’s bad-tempered,” said his father. “Look how he rolls his eyes at you. Keep out of the way of his hind feet! Nobody wants a bad-tempered horse, because so often he is stupid, though he may be strong and healthy. I’d rather work a horse like Patchy, ugly though he is, than this magnificent creature.”

The children wandered round the market before they went back to their donkeys. It was such an exciting place, and so noisy at times that they had to shout to one another to make themselves heard!

Sheep baaed loudly and continuously. Cows mooed and bellowed. A great strong bull, safely roped to his stall, stamped impatiently. The children watched him from a safe distance.

“I do wish we had a bull,” said Rory. “I’m sure a farm isn’t a proper farm without a bull.”

“I’ll get one in the spring,” said his father. “He can live in the orchard. My word, look at those beautiful goats!”

In a pen by themselves were three beautiful milk-white goats. Penny immediately longed for one.

“I don’t think a farm is a farm unless it has goats, too,” she announced. “Daddy, do buy me a goat when I have a birthday.”

“I’ll buy you a baby-goat, a kid, when it’s your birthday,” said her father. “Yes, I promise I will. Now, don’t go quite mad, Penny. You may be sorry you’ve got a goat when it grows up. They can be a great nuisance.”

Penny flung her arms round her father’s waist and hugged him. The thought of the kid filled her with joy for the rest of the day. She tried to think out all kinds of names for it, and the others became impatient when she recited them.

“Penny, do wait till you get the kid,” said Sheila. “What is the good of thinking of a name like Blackie when the kid may be as white as snow? Don’t be silly.”

When they had seen everything in the market and had looked at the big sows there and wondered if their own sow at home was as big, the children made their way back to their donkeys.

“Well, it’s been a lovely afternoon,” said Penny. “Goodness, it’s cold now. Gee-up, Hee-Haw. Gallop along and bump me and get me warm!”

Whilst the children were having tea, there came the noise of hooves and a knock at the back-door.

“The new horses!” squealed Penny and rushed out to see. “I’m going to give them each a carrot to let them know they’ve come to a nice farm. Harriet, can I take two carrots? Oh, thank you. Here you are, Patchy; here you are, Darky. Crunch them up. Welcome to Willow Farm!”

“Well, Missy, if that’s the sort of welcome you give horses, they’ll work well for you!” said the man who had brought them. Jim appeared at that moment and took the horses off to their stable. They both looked round at Penny as they went, and said, “Hrrrrumph!”

“They told me they were awfully pleased to come here,” Penny told the others. “They really did!”