Evelyn went into such expressions of delight at seeing a splendid flock that made the boys smile. "Haven't you any turkeys?" she asked. "Not one," said Jack. "All the cowboys told me that the turkeys would go off and find such an abundant supply of things to eat that they can't be kept at home. But we have ducks and geese, which are kept over in another lot." "Then they passed through another gate, where Evelyn saw a row of cow-sheds, and a half dozen splendid looking Jersey cows. "Oh, my," she cried. "I never saw such fat, beautiful milch-cows in my life." Jack ran up to two of the cows and put his arms around their necks, patted their faces and noses, and the mild-eyed beauties seemed to enjoy the petting. "Fred, where in the world did you and brother find Jersey cows way down this way?" "Oh, we found them on some ranches on the line of the railroad further back east. We paid a pretty good price for them, too. Down here the ranchmen don't seem to understand the value of the Jersey cow; so when we offered them a price that seemed the least bit extravagant, they readily parted with them. We are going to get more of them, for milk and butter sell readily all along the line of the road; but we don't sell any buttermilk, though, for we let the little pigs have that, and the little chickens, too. Jack had an experienced man to build a dairy house in the latest approved style. "Jack, is there any buttermilk in the dairy house now?" he asked. "I don't know, sir; but I'll go and inquire." So he went to the dairyman who had charge of the cows and the dairy house and found out that he had about half a barrel of buttermilk, just a little bit sour. "Then have him bring several bucketfuls out to the little pigs." The dairyman brought two big pails full of the buttermilk and poured it into a big sheet-iron receptacle, circular in form and about four inches deep. The little pigs came running up to the gate, crying like little pigs do when they smell food, and the gate was opened to let them get at it, and every one, of course, stuck his nose into the buttermilk clear up to his eyes, and they drank and pushed against each other until their stomachs actually looked swollen. Evelyn stood and looked on, her eyes fairly sparkling with delight. She picked up several of the little fellows, who seemed to be used to being handled. They behaved, of course, like all little pet pigs. "Oh, what a sight!" she exclaimed. "How I do wish mother could see it." "And Mary, too," added Terry. "Yes, for she, too, is very fond of pigs and chickens, and milch cows." When the little pigs couldn't drink any more buttermilk they were driven back into the lot where the sows were, and then the big pans were shoved in so that the sows could drink the balance. Then they showed Evelyn where the ducks and geese were kept. "Why in the world don't you let them run out and graze? Don't you know that ducks and geese live on grass just like cows and horses?"