There was a widow left with three orphans, and they never knew that they
had to blame a dirty, careless milkman for taking a kind husband and
father from them.
* * * * *
CHAPTER II
THE CRUEL MILKMAN
I have said that Jenkins spent most of his days in idleness. He had to
start out very early in the morning, in order to supply his customers
with milk for breakfast. Oh, how ugly he used to be, when he came into
the stable on cold winter mornings, before the sun was up.
He would hang his lantern on a hook, and get his milking stool, and if
the cows did not step aside just to suit him, he would seize a broom or
fork, and beat them cruelly.
My mother and I slept on a heap of straw in the corner of the stable,
and when she heard his step in the morning she always roused me, so that
we could run out-doors as soon as he opened the stable door. He always
aimed a kick at us as we passed, but my mother taught me how to dodge
him.
After he finished milking, he took the pails of milk up to the house for
Mrs. Jenkins to strain and put in the cans, and he came back and
harnessed his horse to the cart.
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