The branches of the damsons depended so low, looking, as it were, right into the court and pressing the fruit against your very face as you entered, that you could not choose but take some when it was ripe.

A blue-painted barrel-churn stood by the door; young Aaron turned it in the morning, while the finches called in the plum-trees, but now and then not all the strength of his sturdy shoulders nor patient hours of turning could 'fetch' the butter, for a witch had been busy.
Sometimes on entering the dairy in the familiar country way, you might find Cicely, now almost come to womanhood, at the cheese-tub.

As she bent over it her rounded arms, bare nearly to the shoulder, were laved in the white milk.

It must have been from the dairy that Poppaea learned to bathe in milk, for Cicely's arms shone white and smooth, with the gleam of a perfect skin.

But Mrs.Luckett would never let her touch the salt, which will ruin the hands.