156 FARMING IT 



After I had put my knee in the pail and pulled 

 and bent it into shape, I gave her a quart or more 

 gluten to take up her attention, and fell to again. 

 This time I succeeded better, and before she had 

 eaten the gluten I had nearly covered the bot- 

 tom of the pail with foaming milk, interspersed 

 with hayseed, dandruff and sawdust. Having 

 finished her gluten, she looked around, appeared 

 surprised at my determination, and put her foot 

 in the pail ; I called time, emptied the pail for ex- 

 pectant fowl, which, by the way, have formed 

 the habit of gathering around me during the 

 milking hour, or hour and a half, wiped the pail 

 out with my handkerchief, and took a fresh hold. 

 This time I retired as far forward as her shoulder, 

 reached a couple of yards backward, and, in 

 spite of her kicking, she could not locate me. 



Thus did my anatomical peculiarities, coupled 

 with science, prevail over brute strength. I smiled 

 grimly from my point of vantage, and squeezed 

 and pulled manfully, while that wretched cow 

 stood with her back humped and her belly 

 drawn up, holding back with all her bovine 

 might. 



You have all heard how the crocodile lies in 

 wait until his prey gets within reach of its power- 

 ful tail, when with a circular sweep it is thrown 

 into the cavernous jaws. This cow suddenly re- 

 versed the programme, for she violently swung 



