have meant "No." And I guess Splash was too tired to wag his tail, as
he always did when he was happy, or pleased.

"Maybe he'd like a drink of water," said the farmer. "I'll bring him
some from the well. It's good and cold. I'm going to drink some myself,
as it's a hot day. I could give the children a glass of milk," went on
Mr. Trimble to Daddy Brown. "I've got plenty up at the house."

"Oh, I don't want to trouble you," said the children's father.

"It's no trouble!" said the farmer. "My wife will be glad to give them
some. Come on, Splash!" he called. "We'll get you a cold drink after
your run. So the fox got away from you same as that boy Tom Vine ran
away from me."

Mr. Trimble was smiling and laughing now. Somehow or other he did not
seem as mean and cross as he once had. Bunny and Sue were beginning to
like him now. He was quite a different man from the one who had called
at Camp Rest-a-While looking for Tom.

Splash eagerly drank the cool water, and then he rolled in the grass to
get some of the mud off his coat. Mrs. Trimble brought out some milk for
Bunny and Sue, and also a plate of molasses cookies, which they were
very glad to have.

"Sit down under this shady apple tree," said Mrs. Trimble, "and help
yourselves. Maybe you'd like a glass of milk," she said to Mr. Brown.

"Well, I don't care much for milk, except in my tea and coffee," he
said. "Thank you, just the same."

"How about buttermilk?" asked Mr. Trimble. "That's what I like on a hot
day, and she's just churned."

"Yes, I should like the buttermilk," returned Bunny's father, and soon
he was drinking a large glass.

"What funny looking milk!" remarked Sue, as she helped herself to
another molasses cookie from the plate in front of her. "It's got little
yellow lumps in it, Daddy."

"Those are little yellow lumps of butter," said Mr. Brown. "To make
butter, you know, they churn the cream of sour milk. And when the
butter is all taken out in a lump, some sour milk is left, and they call
that buttermilk. Would you like to taste it, Sue?"

Sue, who had drunk the last of her glass of sweet milk, nodded her curly
head. But when Daddy Brown put his glass to her lips, and just let her
sip the buttermilk he had been drinking, Sue made such a funny face that
Bunny laughed aloud.

"Oh--oh! It--it's sour--like lemons!" cried Sue.

"Yes, it is sour!" said Mr. Brown. "But that is why I like it."

"I like molasses cookies better," said Sue, as