lO THE MERRY GEE-GEE 



My old dad was quite the old- 

 fashioned type of farmer — drank a 

 gallon of beer (of his own brewing) 

 per day for fifty-five years, besides liquor, 

 and never had a day's illness in his life. 

 He'd have lived to be a hundred right 

 enough if he hadn't happened an accident. 

 He committed the indiscretion of marry- 

 ing a second young wife at sixty-five, 

 and in due course became the author of 

 my being, so the beer had not done him 

 so very much harm, had it ? He made 

 a rare fuss of me, I can remember, 

 and used to cross-examine me as to 

 which mares the young horses were 

 all out of, etc. We had one hundred and 

 fifty beasts, all red ; he wouldn't have 

 one with a white hair on it. There is 

 a Lincolnshire Red Shorthorn Breeders' 

 Association now, and they have an annual 

 sale at Lincoln April Fair. 



