"We have received a large number
of young children from Metwold," she said, "and I want to secure milk
for them."
"Brent's Farm!" replied Jane. "I never heard of the place."
"O my dear Mrs. Hatton, it is only a small farm on the Ripon road. The
farmer is a poor man but he has five or six cows and he sells their milk
in Hatton. I want to secure it all."
"Is that fair to the rest of his customers?" asked Jane, with an air of
righteous consistency.
"I do not know," was the answer. "I never asked myself. I think it is
fair to get it for babies who cannot bargain for their milk--the people
they take it from can speak for themselves."
They found Brent's Farm to be a rough, roomy stone cottage on the
roadside. There was some pasture land at the back of the house and some
cows feeding on it. A stone barn was not far off, and the woman who
answered their call said, "If you be wanting Sam Brent, you'll find him
in the barn, threshing out some wheat."
Mrs. Levy went to interview the milk dealer; Jane was cold and went into
the cottage to warm herself.
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