Papa taught Sarah how to plow the fields, guilding the plow behind Jack and John and Old Bess, the reins around her neck. When the chores were done we wat in the meadow with the sheep, Sarah besides us, watching Papa finish.
''Tell me about winter,'' said Sarah.
Old Bess nodded her head as she walked, but we could hear Papa speak sharply to Jack.
''Jack doesn't like work,'' said Caleb. ''He wants to be here in the sweet grass with us.'' ''I don't blame him,'' said Sarah. She lay back in the grass with her arms under her head. ''Tell me about winter,'' she said again.
''Winter is cold here,'' said Caleb, and Sarah and I laughed. ''Winter is cold everywhere,'' I said. ''We go to school in winter,'' said Caleb. ''Sums and writing and books,'' he sang.
''I am good at sums and writing,'' said Sarah. ''I love books. How do you get to school?'' ''Papa drives us in the wagon. Or we walk the three miles when there is not too much snow.''
Sarah sat up. ''Do you have lots of snow?'' ''Lots and lots of snow,'' chanted Caleb, rolling around in the grass. ''Sometimes we have to dig our way out to feed the animals,''
''In Maine the barns are attached to the houses sometimes,'' said Sarah. Caleb grinned. ''So you could have a cow to Sunday supper?'' Sarah and I laughed.
''When there are bad storms, Papa ties a rope from the house to the barn so no one will get lost,'' said Caleb. I frowned. I loved winter.
''There is ice on the windows on winter morn-ings,'' I told Sarah. ''We can draw sparkling pictures and we can see our breath in the air. Papa builds a warm fire, and we bake hot biscuits and put on hundres of sweaters.
And if the snow is too high, we stay home from school and make snow people.'' Sarah lay back in the tall grasses again, her face hidden. ''And is there wind?'' she asked.
''Do you like wind?'' asked Caleb. ''There is wind here,'' said Caleb happily. ''It blows the snow and brings thumbleweeds and makes the sheep run. Wind and wind and wind!''
Caleb stood up and ran like the wind, and the sheep ran after him. Sarah and I watched him jump over rock and gullies, the sheep behind him, stiff legged and fast. He circled the field, the sun making the top of his golden.
He collapsed next to Sarah, and the lambs pushed wet noses into us. ''Hello. Lou,'' said Sarah, smiling. ''Hello, Mattiw.'' The sun rose higher, and Papa stopped to take off his hat and wipe his face with his sleeve.
''I'm hot,'' said Sarah. ''I can't wait for winter wind. Let's swim.'' ''Swim where?'' I asked her. ''I can't swim,'' said Caleb
''Can't swim!'' exclaimed Sarah. ''I'll teach you in the cow pond.'' ''That's for cows!'' I cried. But Sarah had grbbed our hands and we were running through the fields, ducking under the fence to the far pond.
''Shoo, cows,'' said Sarah as the cows looked up, srartled. She took off her dress and waded into the water in her petticoat. She dived sud-denly and disappeared for a momment as Caleb and I watched. She came up, lauging, her hair streaming free.
Water beads sat on her shoulders. She tried to teach us how to float. I sank like a bucket filled with water and came up sputter-ing. But Caleb lay on his back and learned how to blow streams of water high in the air like a whale.
The cows stood on the banks of the pond and stared and stared and stopped their chewing. Water bugs circled us. ''Is this like the sea?'' asked Caleb.
Sarah treaded water. ''The sea is salt,'' said Sarah. ''It stretches out as far as you can see. It gleams like the sun on glass. There are waves.''
''Like this?'' asked Caleb, and he pushed a wave at Sarah, making her cough and laugh. ''Yes,'' she said. ''Like that.'' I held my breath and floated at last, looking up into the sky, afraid to speak. Cows flew over, three in the row.
And I could hear a killdeer in the field. We climbed the bank and dried ourselves and lay in the glass again. The cows watched, their eyes sad in their dinner-plate faces. And I slept, dreaming a perfect dream.
