118 STATE BOARD OF AGRICULTURE. 



1,047 pounds, 15% ounces butter in a year; Kathletta's Fancy, 678% 

 pounds of butter in a year; Sophie Hudson, 716.89 pounds butter in a 

 year. 



Guernsey. — Lily Ella, 782.2 pounds fat, 9121^ pounds butter in a year; 

 Lilyita, 710.5 pounds fat, 828.9 pounds butter in a year. 



By the 1902 Guernsey Breeders' Year Book, 172 tests are recorded of 

 Guernsey cows making 400 pounds or more of butter in one year or less. 



Whether these tests are all absolutely correct or not, the fact remains 

 that they simply serve to show the capacity of the cow with the dairy 

 lines and the more she deviates from this toward meat form, the more 

 inconspicuous she becomes as a dairy producer. 



If we leave the registered pure-bred cow of highest possibilities out of 

 sight, then we still have evidence to show dairy capacity, in the records 

 secured by Mr. Goodrich in the Fond du Lac cow census, published in 

 Hoard's Dairyman this month of February and already referred to. In 

 this case, 637 cows made 4,204 pounds of milk as an average yield per cow 

 per year, with an average of 185 pounds of butter fat by Babcock test. 

 Of course the better cows of the 637 ran in records far above these aver- 

 ages and they were cows of the better dairy type no doubt. 



These figures only emphasize the necessity for the thoughtful dairy- 

 man to ever keep in mind high standards, which can only be obtained 

 by the use of cattle of high dairy form. 



This brings me to another consideration of the dairy cow, which is too 

 often neglected and that is the udder and its conformation. If one may 

 judge from what he sees in dairy herds, many men owning dairy cows give 

 little or no attention to the udder, and its capacity. In coming up into 

 Michigan yesterday I saw many specimens of so-called dairy cattle, which 

 if they could have been presented before this audience, I am sure you 

 would have wondered what possible use the owners could have had for 

 them. Poor miserable creatures, starved, ill-formed and with wretched 

 udders, they were a disgrace to this great agricultural State, with its 

 many excellent herds. 



The udder has received more or less attention, and still we know far 

 too little about the process of milk secretion. (Illustrating on the black- 

 board before the audience, the lecturer sketched physiological features 

 of the udder, and gave outline drawings showing different conforma- 

 tions.) The udder is a great gland suspended beneath the body of the 

 cow and supported there by muscular attachments. There are two 

 glands which lie side by side, like two beans with a muscle between, 

 which extends up to the body and assists in holding these two 

 glands in place. Each gland is independent of the other, but not only 

 this, but each gland also is really in two parts, so that the udder is in 

 quarters, with a teat connecting with each. Although each quarter is 

 distinct, the separation is not plainly evident to the naked eye. At 

 the Indiana Experiment Station, Dr. Bitting, the veterinarian, forced 

 hot colored liquid tallow into the several quarters of the udder. When 

 he forced red tallow in one quarter, and blue in the other, af- 

 ter these had solidified, and the udder was laid bare with the 

 knife, a clear line of separation was always found between the red and 

 blue color, even if on the same side of the udder. This explains why, 

 if the cow gives bloody milk from one quarter, she need not give milk 

 bad in character from the other quarter on the same side. 



The interior of an udder somewhat resembles a sponge. Back in its 



