OLEOMARGARINE. 265 



hand with proper care and with a regard for cleanliness. But some- 

 times, as was suggested, the cow will put her foot in the pail; and in 

 that case cleanliness, of course, is not guaranteed. 



Senator HEITFELD. But they are not compelled to use that milk. 



Mr. SOHELL. They are not compelled to use it, but how many pros- 

 perous, enterprising farmers are going to throw away that pail of milk, 

 especially if they are supplying the market? They will probably see 

 that it does not go on their own table. 



Now, we also know, everyone of us, that good butter makers in the 

 country have a market for their product. They have contracts, the 

 same as Mr. Sharpless, to supply their neighbors, even neighboring 

 farmers. They have their contracts to supply the residents of little 

 villages; and they get the same price the year round, whether butter 

 is more or less than the price they are getting. In some of the cases 

 about which I know, the farmers' wives who have these contracts sup- 

 ply butter the year around at 25 cents a pound. Sometimes their neigh- 

 bors are getting 10 cents and sometimes they are getting the full 25 

 cents. That is another class of butter. 



Now, gentlemen, I am going into details, partly on the suggestion of 

 the two gentlemen present and partly because, while every politician 

 is not a statesman, every statesman must necessarily be or has been a 

 politician, and as such he must have gone through the various districts, 

 good, bad, and indifferent. 



Senator MONEY. A statesman is a dead politician. 



Mr. SCHELL. Yes; that is very true. Then, perhaps we can confine 

 ourselves to politicians, if you insist upon it. 



Now, we are not going to take you through the green fields, and bab- 

 bling brooks, and sh ady lanes, and watch the pretty milkmaid who "pails " 

 the cow. We are going to get down to actual facts. We are going to 

 go through the stubble fields, grown up with ragweed. We are going 

 to recall the taste of that butter which comes on the table made from 

 the milk of cows fed on this ragweed. We are going to call attention 

 to the barnyard in winter, often fenced in with a rail fence, which also 

 serves as a pigpen, and the cows and the pigs sleep together, with 

 mud knee deep. Sometimes they hunt for a high and a dry place, and 

 sometimes they do not even take that trouble, they are so accustomed 

 to the mud. We are going to call attention to the hired man, when he 

 goes out to milk the cows to the condition of his hands, to the cold in 

 his head, etc. Sometimes he takes water from the pump and washes 

 off just a little bit of mud from the teats, so that it will not be quite so 

 nasty for his fingers; but as he milks, we watch the melted proceeds of 

 the night's repose drip down from his hands and go into the milk pail. 

 We also notice the general condition of many of those cows. Some 

 novelist, writing a few years ago, spoke of the general condition of the 

 cows in New York; and the active interest the hero took, for the love 

 of humanity and the little ones, to get better sanitary conditions, etc. 

 His experience is not a circumstance compared with some barnyards 

 we have all seen. Take the case of cows with the hollow horn, in the 

 winter time 



Mr. HOARD. Cows with what? 



Mr. SCHELL. Hollow horn. 



Mr. HOARD. I will give you $100 for a case of hollow horn. 



Senator MONEY. Well, I will give you $500 to demonstrate that it 

 don't exist. I have bored the horns for it many times. 



Mr. HOARD. As a disease? 



Senator MONEY. They will die if you do not bore them, too. 



