Aren't you glad father's not a farmer, Milly ?" "Why, Aunt Emma," said Milly, "I'm always wishing father _was_ a farmer.
I want to be like Becky, and call the cows, and mind the baby all by myself.

It must be nice feeding the chickens, and making the hay, and taking the milk around." "Yes, all that's very nice, but how would you like your hay washed away, and your corn beaten down, and your fruit all spoilt?
Those are things that are constantly happening to John Backhouse, I expect, in the rainy country." "Yes, and it won't always be summer," said Milly, considering.

"I don't think I should like to stay in that little weeny house all the winter.
Is it very cold here in the winter, Aunt Emma ?" "Not very, generally.

But last winter was very cold here, and the snow lay on the ground for weeks and weeks.

On Christmas eve, do you know, Milly, I wanted to have a children's party in my kitchen, and what do you think I did?
The snow was lying deep on the roads, so I sent out two sledges." "What are sledges ?" asked Olly.
"Carriages with the wheels taken off and two long pieces of wood fastened on instead, so that they slip along smoothly over the snow.