CHAPTER XXV 



THE DAIRYMAID 



OF course I had trouble in getting a dairy- 

 maid. I was not looking for the bouncing, 

 buxom, red-cheeked, arms-akimbo, butter-colored- 

 hair sort. I didn't care whether she were red- 

 cheeked and bouncing or not, but for obvious 

 reasons I didn't want her hair to be butter-col- 

 ored. What I did want was a woman who un- 

 derstood creamery processes, and who could and 

 would make the very giltest of gilt-edged butter. 



I commenced looking for my paragon in Janu- 

 ary. I interviewed applicants of both sexes and 

 all nationalities, but there was none perfect; 

 no, not one. I was not exactly discouraged, but 

 I certainly began to grow anxious as the time 

 approached when I should need my dairymaid, 

 and need her badly. One day, while looking 

 over the Rural New Yorker (I was weaned on 

 that paper), I saw the following advertisement. 

 " Wanted : Employment on a dairy-farm by a 

 married couple who understand the business." 

 If this were true, these two persons were just 

 what I needed ; but, was it true ? I had tried 

 a score of greater promise and had not found 



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