The next dog wasn’t quite as good as the first, the third fell a bit short as well, then the next two seemed to do as well. The contest ultimately came down to a second trial between the first dog and the tenth, in which the first dog won by successfully driving one sheep into each corner of the arena and the fifth into the center, and keeping them all in their places despite their natural instinct to come together as a flock. The other couldn’t manage to keep the one in the center put.

The proud shepherd and his prancing partner collected not only their prize medal, but a handsome prize of money as well.

“Why didn’t you get any money, Lady Dia?” Kee asked, since the sheepherding contest was the last dog competition of the day.

“Because I will get money every time my dog goes to make puppies with another mastiff,” Dia explained, matter-of-factly. “That’s what the real prize is for many of the farmers here. If they have the prize-winning bull, or gander, or ram, other people will pay them money for many years for what are called ‘stud fees.’ And for a farmer who has to depend on weather and doesn’t know from one year to the next what his crop will be like, to have the certainty of money coming in every spring is very important.”

There was no doubt that all of this was very new to both boys, and they listened with wide eyes. But they were not the only ones listening to Lady Dia; from behind them in the stands, someone cleared his throat, and said, “Well, if you’re to be tellin’ these lads what a farmer’s life be like, I can be helpin’ with that.”

They all turned to see a weathered, but kind-faced, gray-haired man dressed in a smock and canvas trews; he was looking, not at Lady Dia, but at the boys. Dia didn’t get a chance to answer, because both of them practically burst out with “Yes, please!”

So the rest of the afternoon, they not only heard what a farmer’s life was like, but were taken around to see the beasts this particular man had brought to show and sell. They also met his wife, who had entered cheese and preserves in contests, and six of his twelve children. Three of the ones who were not at the Fair were married and taking care of their own farms, and the other three had stayed behind to tend the family farm in the absence of the rest. By the time they all went up the Hill in the wagon, Abi reckoned the boys had gotten one of the best educations on farming in a single afternoon that they were ever likely to see.