THE MILK MACHINE 323 
ness, and then replaced by others. Pushing to 
the limit of capacity is in no sense cruelty. It is 
predicated on the perfect health of the animal, 
for without perfect condition, neither machine 
nor animal can do its best work. It is simply 
encouraging to a high degree the special function 
for which generations of careful breeding have 
fitted the animal. 
That there is gratification in giving milk, no 
well-bred cow or mother will deny. It is a 
joyous function to eat large quantities of pleas- 
ant food and turn it into milk. Heredity impels 
the cow to do this, and it would take generations 
of wild life to wean her from it. As well say 
that the cataleptic trance of the pointer, when 
the game bird lies close and the delicate scent 
fills his nostrils, is not a joy to him, or that the 
Dalmatian at the heels of his horse, or the fox- 
hound when Reynard’s trail is warm, receive no 
pleasure from their specialties. 
Do these animals feel no joy in the perform- 
ance of service which is bred into their bones 
and which it is unnatural or freakish for them 
to lack? No one who has watched the “ bred- 
for-milk ” cow can doubt that the joys of her life 
are eating, drinking, sleeping, and giving milk. 
Pushing her to the limit of her capacity is only 
intensifying her life, though, possibly, it may 
shorten it by a year or two. While she lives 
she knows all the happiness of cow life, and 
knows it to the full. What more can she ask? 
