Weston. "We drive them from place to
place as they eat the grass. We don't generally keep many head of
cattle right around the ranch buildings. We have a cow or two for
milk, and maybe a calf or so."
"Oh, may I have a little calf?" cried Freddie. "If I'm going to be a
cowboy I want a little calf."
"I guess we can get you one," said Mr. Weston, with a smile. "Well,
here we are," he went on, as he drove the wagon up in front of a one-
story red building, with a low, broad porch. "This is the main ranch
house where your uncle used to live part of the time, Mrs. Bobbsey,"
he said. "I think you'll find it big enough for your family. We fixed
it up as best we could when we heard you were coming."
"Oh, I'm sure you have made it just like a home!" said Mrs. Bobbsey in
delight, as she went into the house with her husband and the children.
"Oh, how lovely!"
There were some bright-colored rugs on the floor, and in vases on the
table and mantel were some prairie flowers. On the walls of the one
big room, which seemed to take up most of the house, were oddly
colored cow skins, mounted horns, and the furry pelt of some animal
that Bert thought was a wolf.
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