88 Thirty-Sixth Annual Repout of the 



A few years ago I had the honor and the pleasure of being 

 invited to look upon one of the finest herds in the Western 

 States. The owner was a very wealthy man and took great pride 

 in his cattle and his fame. He said to me "The ambition of 

 my life is to walk between my own plough handles" — and he was 

 a man who commanded a salary as large as that of the Presi- 

 dent of the United States, yet he couldn't afford to be a farmer, 

 and was waiting until he could afford to walk between his own 

 plough handles. And so I visited the herd because he was so 

 proud of it, and he said to me as we walked towards the barn, — 

 "Oh, I have a dandy little heifer; she freshened the other day 

 and I want you to see her ; I want to see what you think of 

 her." And he called to his herdsman, "John, bring up the cattle, 

 I want Mrs. Howie to see that heifer." And up the laue they 

 came. It was one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen, — 

 one hundred head, perfect as to type, and beautiful as to color. 

 Up they came and the owner looked here and there for the 

 little heifer, and finally off in one corner we saw a little creature 

 with her head down, her eyes a little bloodshot, lifting one leg 

 and then the other in perfect agony, and he said, "There, there 

 she is. What do you think of her?" "What do I think of her? 

 I think it the most pitiable sight I have ever seen. Why don't 

 you milk her?" "John, Mrs. Howie asks why you don't milk 

 that heifer." And what do you suppose John said, — "Because 

 it isn't milking time." Oh, man, man ! Here was a herdsman, 

 commanding the highest price because of his superior skill as 

 a feeder, as a herdsman, and he didn't know enough to milk that 

 heifer, though she was secreting the milk faster than she could 

 take care of it. Didn't he know that? Didn't he know that the 

 udder was caking and coming to harm, — that it was going 

 through her system and making her feverish and sick and after 

 a while she would fail to give the quantity that she did at first ? 

 He should have known those things. Therefore I beg of you to 

 milk that heifer three times a day for at least five weeks until 

 the udder will contain all the milk that it will secrete, and will 

 hold it without inconvenience. For the first year, milk her up 

 as near as possible to the second freshening. If she doesn't 

 give much and you think it isn't worth while to bother with her 

 and that you had better dry her, don't you do it. You are 

 training her for a profitable dairy worker and if you do dry her, 

 she will dry the next year at the same time, and you haven't the 

 persistent dairy worker that you want in your. herd. Milk her 

 up as near as possible to the second freshening, and then perhaps 

 the second year she won't do any better than she did the first 

 year ; and you will say "I guess I have wasted my time." Wait 

 a bit. Milk her to within two months of the third freshening; 



