20 THE COW 



readily than the beef breeds, which is what we 

 would expect, for the former have been accus- 

 tomed to this mode of infantile feeding for many 

 generations. 



The dairy cow today is so completely a creature 

 of artificial environment and acquired habits that 

 we can only guess how the calf and its mother 

 fared in the old days. Doubtless she nourished 

 him and guided him and, if necessary, fought for 

 him the first summer, and by autumn he was a 

 lusty thick-haired youngster. Then as the time 

 of her next calf drew near, her udder ceased to 

 yield anything to him. Her mind was filled with 

 plans for the new baby, and he straightway thank- 

 lessly forgot her and drifted away to frolic or 

 strive with his kind. On the modem dairy farm, 

 the calf's ideal of a mother is typified by a herds- 

 man with a bucket of skim-milk, while the material 

 affections and instincts of the cow go out to a 

 man with a tin pail and a three-legged milking 

 stool ; and that is why family ties grow lax in the 

 dairy world. 



Both historical evidence and climatic adapta- 

 bility point to the fact that the cow is a native of 

 temperate or cold regions. She is apparently not 

 at home in the tropics, and even in our South At- 

 lantic states she tends to diminish in size and vigor, 

 although this is possibly due to deficient food 

 supply and the scourge of the Texas cattle tick 

 rather than mere questions of temperature. With 



