ause they see so few),
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods...
But there is no road through the woods!

Marklake Witches

When Dan took up boat-building, Una coaxed Mrs Vincey, the farmer's wife
at Little Lindens, to teach her to milk. Mrs Vincey milks in the pasture
in summer, which is different from milking in the shed, because the
cows are not tied up, and until they know you they will not stand still.
After three weeks Una could milk Red Cow or Kitty Shorthorn quite dry,
without her wrists aching, and then she allowed Dan to look. But milking
did not amuse him, and it was pleasanter for Una to be alone in the
quiet pastures with quiet-spoken Mrs Vincey. So, evening after evening,
she slipped across to Little Lindens, took her stool from the fern-clump
beside the fallen oak, and went to work, her pail between her knees, and
her head pressed hard into the cow's flank. As often as not, Mrs Vincey
would be milking cross Pansy at the other end of the pasture, and would
not come near till it was time to strain and pour off.

Once, in the middle of a milking, Kitty Shorthorn boxed Una's ear with
her tail.

'You old pig!' said Una, nearly crying, for a cow's tail can hurt.

'Why didn't you tie it down, child?' said a voice behind her.

'I meant to, but the flies are so bad I let her off--and this is what
she's done!' Una looked round, expecting Puck, and saw a curly-haired
girl, not much taller than herself, but older, dressed in a curious
high-waisted, lavender-coloured riding-habit, with a high hunched collar
and a deep cape and a belt fastened with a steel clasp. She wore a
yellow velvet cap and tan gauntlets, and carried a real hunting-crop.
Her cheeks were pale except for two pretty pink patches in the middle,
and she talked with little gasps at the end of her sentences, as though
she had been running.

'You don't milk so badly, child,' she said, and when she smiled her
teeth showed small and even and pearly.

'Can you milk?' Una asked, and then flushed, for she heard Puck's
chuckle.

He stepped out of the fern and sat down, holding Kitty Short-horn's
tail. 'There isn't much,' he said, 'that Miss Philadelphia doesn't
know about milk--or, for that matter, butter and eggs. She's a great
housewife.'

'Oh,' said