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Calvin, wh.il do .V(i\! think tif nicV I Imvo ;4ont' and l)()u;rlit anotlu'i- oow." 

 1 siiid. "Now. tliiil is not liirlit." My hair used to lie red. It is gettin.u: 

 irray. Sm-li things as that caused it. So I drove off and h'ft her. I have 

 not spoken to lier since, and she has not to me. She keejis another cow. 

 and she sells milk. Of course, I haven't much love for her. I have 

 bought other cows, and have come out all right, and stopped the sale of 

 their milk. I have customers today who used to keep town cows, but who- 

 would not keep a cow if they can buy milk from a wagon. I have cus- 

 tomeis who used to patronize them; because it is so much handier to get 

 ihe milk from the wagon, and get it regularly, and get good milk. I 

 have some patrons I want to tell you about. They will patronize the 

 town cow 9 or 10 months out of the year, and then when the town cow 

 gties dry they Mill come to the wagon and want milk. I have tried 

 this on some customers and it works all right. I say, "Here, do you 

 expect to stay by the wagon when that cow comes in fresh again?" 

 Well, they almost invariably say "Yes," and I see to it they do. Some- 

 Times they say "No," and I let them do without milk. There was one 

 family I was afraid to refuse milk to. He was a restaurant man. I was 

 furnishing him milk at the restaurant. He Avas a good customer there, 

 taking from two to five quarts a day, more times four quarts than any 

 other amount. His wife wanted milk for the family a while. The cow 

 of the drayman's wife had gone dry. She wanted milk from, the wagon 

 until that cow would be fresh again. Althou.gh I was afraid it would lose 

 me the restaurant customer, I said, "No." and I made it a point the same 

 morning to see the man and have a talk with him; and I still sell milk 

 to the restaurant, and she still gets milk from the cow. In starting I 

 wasn't quite so independent. As I got further along, and got to making 

 a little money out of it, I could afford to be a little more independent 

 about the town cows. I suppose the first year the woman would have 

 got the milk; the second year I would not do it. 



Then another kind of cow I have had trouble with has been the "baby 

 cow." When I started into the milk business, there was an old man 

 and old lady who were wealthy. They had kept cows for 10 or 15 years. 

 They lived in town. They kept five or six cows and sold, milk from 

 these cows. I went to them and tried to buy them out. "No," they 

 wouldn't sell. "Well," I say to myself, "the old gentleman is getting old, 

 he isn't liable to live very long." I had made a canvas of the town, and 

 had seen what I could do, and I concluded I would start a wagon anyhow. 

 I had reasoned right, for, unfortunately for him, he died in less than a 

 year, and I was selling milk to the family. They had quit business. 

 While they had been selling milk for 10 or 15 years they had kept what 

 they called "the baby cow." It had become an axiom of the town that 

 milk for the baby should come from one qow, and one cow's milk always. 

 The whole town had been educated to think that, and how to overcome 

 it I did not know. So I used a little deception. I don'c think it was mean. 



