440 
[October, 
AMERICAN AGJIilCTJLTTTRIST. 
The Steers at JSie Fair. 
The first fair that I ever went to was a Town Pair held 
in a grove near where I lived. It was so far away that 
we had to harness the horses and drive over, all hands 
going in a large wagon. I remember we hitched the 
horses on the road side some distance from the gate to 
the fair-grounds, and gave them some hay to eat while 
we went to see the sights on the other side of the high 
fence. The next fair that I attended was held at the 
same place just about a year after the first one, and the 
was one yoke of steers that were, in my eyes at least, 
particularly fine. From the day they were born—both 
on the same day, and cared for by the same mother—they 
were iny steers ; not because I had bought and paid for 
them, but—you know how it is—in name, which amounts 
to much the same thing. That they looked alike might 
be expected, being so closely related—twins are often 
bard to tell apart, especially when they are small. But I 
knew Fred apart from Frank early in their calf life, and 
could have told the one from the other in the darkest 
night. I watched over these calves, combed them, fed 
know walk with a cane. The fall after they were a year 
old, Frank and Fred were as well trained and as trusty 
as the oldest yoke of oxen on the farm—in fact, 1 thought 
more so. The “twin steers” were not only the pride 
of my young heart, but I observed the whole household 
took more than ordinary notice of them. It was getting 
“fair time,” and I knew it. I had had that Fair in my 
mind all the summer through, and thought of it most 
when my steers behaved the best. They must go, I said, 
and none of the rest of the folks could raise any objec¬ 
tions. I remember llie day I took them on foot along 
THE YOKE OF TWIN TRAINED STEERS AT THE DISTRICT FAIR. 
third about a year after that. I might have kept on 
going to that Town Fair for many more years had it not 
happened that the Town Fair was changed to a District 
Fair and the Town Fair and its grounds were given up. 
How sad and lonesome the old trotting track looked, or 
rather the place where it was once so smooth and fine— 
all grown up to wheat, and afterwards to grass 1 The 
District Fair was a much larger one than the old Town 
Fair, as it took in more country. It was held in a much 
larger field, had more and better buildings; the track 
was larger and there were ever so many more people that 
attended it. It cost more to get in too; but it was worth 
more, for there was much more to be seen. I should 
probably have kept going to this District Fair every year 
until this day, and enjoyed it too, had not things so 
turned that I moved nearly a thousand miles away. But 
I intended to tell you about some Steers at the Fair. The 
steers were my steers, and the fair wasthatof the District 
that has been mentioned. “ Our folk ” had a great many 
steers; in fact, there was always one or more yoke to be 
broken every year, and as the boys were not very numer¬ 
ous in our family, I was “ early and often ” put to the 
whip—that is, given the old oxen and then the steers to 
drive. A boy has his fancies, and I had mine. There 
them, and perhaps played with them when it would have 
been just as well as if I had been at work in the garden. 
They flourished under my care; were plump, smooth, 
gentle, hungry fellows all the summer long. How I did 
want to take them to the Fair in the fall; and I should 
have perhaps done it had it not been that I was taken 
sick and I was not able to go—and of course the calves 
could not go. That winter and the following spring the 
young steers were accustomed to the yoke and taught to 
draw the hand sled and the little cart. We used to call 
it “ breaking ” them; but they were so kind and took so 
readily to the yoke that the word “breaking” sounds 
harsh. The fact chat they were so obedient may be be¬ 
cause I was gentle with them. I had been cruel to other 
steers, and they had frequently served me an unkind turn 
—either of the head or the tail—and with this experience 
and the instruction of my elders I made up my mind to 
see what “ sugar plums ” would do with a yoke of steers, 
or in other words, if kind words and loving hands would 
not save the use of the whip. They will almost entirely; 
it is sometimes necessary to let a young steer feel, and 
with a little smarting of the skin, that there is a master 
whose will is to be his (the steer’s) guide, but in most 
cases I carried the whip much as some young men I 
the road to "be entered as “yearling steers” at the Dis¬ 
trict Fair. But the scene when they were driven out on 
the following day to be viewed by the judges is much 
more vividly impressed on my mind. I shall not forget 
how well the young steers behaved themselves with all 
the people around—the small boys shouting, the older 
ones laughing, and the band playing. If I ever do forget 
that time I will go to my keep-sake drawer and bring 
out the red ribbon that was tied on Fred’s horn as the 
token that he and his mate had received the first prize. 
How the other young men with “yearlings” feel I do 
not know, but as for me I was more than paid on the 
spot for all the trouble—it was not trouble—that I had 
been to in bringing up the steers to their present state 
of usefulness. The artist has rendered me substantial 
aid in giving you a picture of my young team, and at the 
trying time when the eyes of the judges—and of the 
world, as I thought—were upon us. It all paid, boys. 
The kindness to the calves, the care of them as they grew 
up, the taking of them to the fair, all paid me, and it will 
pay any boy that can do likewise. Even a stupid (?) calf 
has noble traits of character that when brought out will 
bless the one that has the desire to help it to do it. 
Uncle Hal. 
