While Nancy went round the cellar gathering in her apron the various roots she wanted, Ellen uncovered the pork barrel, and after looking a minute at the dark pickle she never loved to plunge into, bravely bared her arm and fished up a piece of pork. "Now, Nancy, just help me with this churn out of the cellar, will you? and then you may go." "My goodness! it is heavy," said Nancy. "You'll have a time of it, Ellen; but I can't help you." She went off to the garden for parsnips, and Ellen quietly put in the dasher and the cover, and began to churn. It was tiresome work. The churn was pretty full, as Nancy had said; the cream was rich and cold, and at the end of half-an-hour grew very stiff. It spattered and sputtered up on Ellen's face and hands and apron, and over the floor; legs and arms were both weary; but still that pitiless dasher must go up and down, hard as it might be to force it either way; she must not stop. In this state of matters she heard a pair of thick shoes come clumping down the stairs, and beheld Mr. Van Brunt. "Here you are," said he. "Churning!--been long at it?" "A good while," said Ellen, with a sigh. "Coming?" "I don't know when." Mr. Van Brunt stepped to the door and shouted for Sam Larkens. He was ordered to take the churn and bring the butter; and Ellen, very glad of rest, went out to amuse herself with feeding the chickens, and then upstairs to see what Nancy was doing. "Butter come?" said Nancy. "No, Sam has taken it. How are you getting on? Oh, I am tired!" "I'm getting on first-rate; I've got all the things in." "In what?" "Why, in the pot!--in a pot of water, boiling away as fast as they can; we'll have dinner directly. Hurra! who comes there?" She jumped to the door. It was Thomas, bringing Margery's respects, and a custard-pie for Ellen. "I declare," said Nancy, "it's a good thing to have friends, ain't it? I'll try and get some. Hollo! what's wanting? Mr. Van Brunt's calling you, Ellen." Ellen ran down. "The butter's come," said he. "Now do you know what to do with it?" "Oh, yes," said Ellen, smiling; "Margery showed me nicely." He brought her a pail of water from the spout, and stood by with a pleased kind of look, while she carefully lifted the cover and rinsed down the little bits of butter which stuck to it and the dasher; took out the butter with her ladle into a large wooden bowl, washed it, and finally salted it. "Don't take too much pains," said he; "the less of the hand it gets the better. That will do very well." "Now, are you ready?" said Nancy, coming downstairs, "'cause dinner is. My goodness! ain't that a fine lot of butter? there's four pounds, ain't there?" "Five," said Mr. Van Brunt. "And as sweet as it can be," said Ellen. "Beautiful, isn't it? Yes; I'm ready, as soon as I set this in the cellar and cover it up."