160 FARMING IT 



boy knows, dries up the blood, and, of course, 

 could have no other effect upon the milk. 



This being out of the question, I then thought 

 of giving her doses of alum. You see, when I was 

 a boy and had a canker in my mouth, which was 

 always explained to me by my mother as being the 

 direct result of saying bad words, and which for 

 many good reasons I could not deny, a little alum 

 rubbed on the affected part puckered up my lips 

 so that they looked like the stem end of a green 

 tomato, and made my mouth so dry that I 

 couldn't spit through my teeth, another accom- 

 plishment of mine, for a week. But how I could 

 whistle ! 



Naturally, this occurred to me as a facile 

 means of drying up the old cow, but before put- 

 ting it in operation I consulted the fountainhead 

 of all bucolic knowledge, Daniel, my rosy and 

 jocose neigbor. 



"How much milk does she give?" queried 

 Daniel, in answer to my request for instructions. 



"About a pint and a half," I replied. 



"Dry! How much drier do you expect to get 

 her?" exclaimed Daniel with some heat. "If I 

 had a cow that didn't give but a pint at a milk- 

 ing, I should think she was pretty almighty dry. 

 You don't want to endanger your premises by 

 getting her so dry that you can't take a lantern 

 into the barn, do you ?" 



