But under his inexperienced fingers none came.

He tugged away manfully, but with no result.
"I guess the cow's dry," said he at last, looking up in his father's face.
Mr.Frost in reply drew out a copious stream.
"I did the same as you," said Frank, mystified, "and none came." "You didn't take hold right," said his father, "and you pressed at the wrong time.

Let me show you." Before the first lesson was over Frank had advanced a little in the art of milking, and it may as well be said here that in the course of a week or so he became a fair proficient, so that his father even allowed him to try Vixen, a cow who had received this name from the uncertainty of her temper.

She had more than once upset the pail with a spiteful kick when it was nearly full.

One morning she upset not only the pail, but Frank, who looked foolish enough as he got up covered with milk.
Frank also commenced reading the Plowman, a weekly agricultural paper which his father had taken for years.