JUNE 44 
JEBSEY CATTLE. 
Home-bred and Imported. 
BIOHABD GOODMAN, JB. 
A glamoub still surrounds the word “im¬ 
ported.” At public sales in this country a cow 
brought from the Island of Jersey, concerning 
whose ancestors nothing, or but little, is 
known, frequently brings twice the price of an 
American-bred animal who3e ancestors for 40 
years back are known, and known to have 
been strong and'healthy and to have included 
numerous large butter-makers. This is wrong. 
We Americans make a great mistake in con¬ 
sidering that, because a thing is imported, 
therefore it is of necessity better than any¬ 
thing home-made or home-bred. 
In the earlier days of our existence as a na¬ 
tion there were many things of importance 
which we could not produce in quality equal 
to that made in foreign countries, and hence 
we got into the habit of considering everything 
made abroad better than anything made at 
home. But the time has come for us to over¬ 
come this prtj udice ; to open our eyes to the 
fact that in many products we have surpassed 
the inhabitants of the Old World, and in noth¬ 
ing have we reached a higher position as com¬ 
pared with Europe than in the breeding of flue 
stock. It has taken a deal of hard work and 
not a few hard knocks to rouse our agricultu¬ 
ral brethern to the realization of the fact that 
in the breeding of horned cattle we have in 
this country equaled and surpassed Eng¬ 
lishmen in Snort-horns, Dutchmen in Ilolsteins 
and Jerseymen in Jerseys, But the careful 
breeding and writing and investigating and 
testing of such men as Mr. Darling, Mr. Kel¬ 
logg, Mr. Motley, Mr. Hoe, Mr. Waring, Mr. 
EtlmB and others have at length opened the eyes 
or the world to the merits of American Jerseys, 
and the prices paid at recent public sales in 
New York city ate proofs in point—American- 
bred Jersey bulls of from one to six years of 
age selling for from $500 to $4 500 each. Yet, 
as has been suggested, the eyes of the entire 
community are not fully opened to the merits 
of our own animals as compared with thoBe 
fresh from the Island of Jersey. For example, 
at the sales j ust referred to, imported animals 
with no known pedigrees brought higher 
prices than some good home-bred cattle which 
had American pedigrees running back 30 
years. 
The following are some of the reasons why 
buyers and breeders of Jersey cattle Bhoold 
place a higher value upon those haviug long 
and good American pedigrees than on those of 
recent importation. In the first place, it 
should be remembered that the “ foundation 
stock’’of our American Jerseys was selected 
under the most favorable auspices. The ef¬ 
forts of the Jersey Agricultural Society had 
for a dozen years been making conspicuous, by 
selection and awards, the best animals and the 
best families in the Island when, in 1850, 1851 
and 1852, our countrymen, Messrs. Taintor, 
Motley and others, began their importations. 
These gentlemen had the good sense to appre¬ 
ciate and the money and energy to promptly 
appropriate the best animals in the Island. 
These came to America bearing their first-pre¬ 
mium ribbons on their horns and they were 
distributed in various parts of this country 
and many fell into hands of men of great 
wealth and intelligence. Thus we may be said 
to have had at least an “ even start” 30 years 
ago with our fellow breeders in the Island of 
Jersey, and 1 think it cannot be denied that 
we had more thau an even start—we had a 
“ lead for though they had more cattle than 
we, many of their cattle were inferior, while 
ours were all, or nearly all, good. It is not 
until of late years that Jerseys of all grades 
have been poured upon our shore. In the 
early days intelligent breeders, who were also 
men of wealth, selected and imported fjr them¬ 
selves. Hence is it surprising that most of 
the best cows in this country to-day trace back 
to these importations of “ the fifties,” and, as a 
rule, the best Jersey6 in America to-day have 
the longest American pedigrees? 
Thus it is that we find repeated again aud 
again in the pedigrees of the majority of the 
best Jersey cows in this couutiy to-day the 
names of Buch bulls as Splendid (2), Pilot (3), 
York (8), St. Clement (10), Prluce of Jersey 
(05), aud Colonel (75), aud such cows as Lily 
(1), Pansy (8), Frora (113), and Rose (240). It 
is not meaut to be implied that no good Jer¬ 
seys have been imported since these early days; 
numerous animals, excellent themselves and 
the founders of distinguished families have 
been imported at intervals ever since 1850, as, 
for example, the bulls Jerry (15), Rob Roy (17), 
Saturn (94), and Rajah (340) and such cows as 
Rhea (166), Duchess (101) and Frankie (17); 
but most of these were brought to this coun¬ 
try before 1865, and have usually been distin¬ 
guished animals at home, the winners of first 
prizes at the Island shows, or out of the herds 
of some very eminent Jersey breeder, and they 
Wi re certuinly very different animals from 
the majority of those imported during the past 
dozen years, many of which are sold because 
of little value and most of which are nameless 
THE RURAL 
and numberless until the day of sale. It 
should not be forgotten that of the ten thou¬ 
sand Jersey cattle in the United States to-day 
alt are regist ered and a careful record kept of 
their age s, markings, names, numbers, breed¬ 
ers and all ancestors on both sires’ and dams’ 
sides ; while of the ten thousand in the Island 
of Jersey a vast majority are unnamed and un¬ 
registered and unp edigreed. 
But as we began our breeding of Jerseys in 
this country with some of the best animals then 
living and also with a very small proportion of 
inferior animals as compared with our Island 
competitors, we insist not only that we were 
more fortunate than the inhabitants of the 
Island of Jersey in the start, but that our ani¬ 
mals have escaped several injurious influences 
to which the cattle of the Island have been ex¬ 
posed during the past dozen or twenty years. 
Among these are the influence of the English 
preference for square outlines in the shape of 
cattle, and for uniformity of color in the hair. 
Two other circumstances should be mentioned 
—one, the use of yonng bulls, and, the other, 
the limited amount and quality and variety of 
fodder aud the limited amount of exercise. 
The influence of English taste has naturally 
been felt moie powerfully by the inhabitants 
of the Channel Islands than by Americans. 
Hence we have done much less injury to the 
butter-producing powers of our Jerseys by 
seeking to breed them into square Short-horn 
shapes or into “solid colors.” No one famil¬ 
iar with the exhibitions in Jersey and in Eng- 
lana during the past dpzen years, will deny 
that many a good Jersey batter family has 
been seriously injured by the efforts of the 
breeder to produce animals which in shape 
and color should please the eys of the j udges 
or rich fanciers at British 6hows. 
As to the use of immature bulls, it is a notor¬ 
ious fact that bulls over two years of age are 
seldom seen in the Island, while in America 
bulls are usualiy kept in use until they are six 
years of age, and there is one bull now con¬ 
spicuous before the American public, which is 
over thirteen years of age. It is unnecessai y 
to go into an argument to prove the injury 
which mu6t result to any race of cattle or men, 
which is kept.alive exclusively by very youthful 
Bires. And to this immature service should be 
added the excessive service so common in the 
Island of Jersey; Mr. Thornton, Secretary of 
the English Jersey Herd Book, says that it is 
no uncommon thing for yearling bulla on the 
Island to serve between two and three hundred 
cows iu one season ! 
As to the amount of food aud exercise the 
cattle of Jersey enjoy, it should be remembered 
that the whole Island is only eleven miles in 
length by four in width, and that the farms 
average but four acres in extent, and that 
much of this land is devoted to the production 
of potatoes and early vegetables for the Eng¬ 
lish markets. The cattle are never at liberty 
to roam at will in search of food and shade 
and water, and thus to get incideutally kealth- 
fal exercise. 
And when compared with the variety and 
amount of grass aud hay, roots and green fod¬ 
der, not to speak of the corn and wheat and 
cotton-seed meal of the United States, we shall 
see that the cattle of our country have many 
advantages wholly denied to those of the Chan¬ 
nel Islands. It may, in conclusion, be safely 
asserted that there are more good Jersey cattle 
In America to-dsy thaa in Jersey and England 
together; that American Jerseys with long 
American pedigrees possess to-day a higher 
interest aud value to breeders thau any 
which are or can be imported, and that if 
“ fresh blood ” is needed it should be “ im¬ 
ported” from our sister States rather than 
from across the water. 
-- 
Benefit of Feeding Two Quarts of Cotton-Seed 
Meal Per Bay. 
As I did not wish to be at the trouble of rak¬ 
ing calves from my family cow, I have let her 
go farrow for several years past. Last No¬ 
vember, after being takeu up from pasture and 
put on dry feed in the stable, her butter yield 
almost immediately fell from six pounds per 
week to a little less than five pounds ; but, 
what was worse, she lost flesh continually, and 
by the last of December became quite thin. In 
addition to her other feed I commenced giving 
one quart of cotton-seed meat in the morning, 
and the same quantity again at night. Within 
a week shi began to amend both in flesh and 
butter. The last was increased to six pounds 
per week, and held to that on the average till 
she was turned out to pasture early iu May; 
and since then there is a slight increase. But, 
what was still more gratifying, by the last of 
March, she had gained flesh enougn to almost 
make her fit tor beef. There is no doubt in my 
mind that the coiton-seed meal produced a 
three-fold benefit: first, an increase of bntter; 
second, an increase of flesh; and third, ic 
enabled the cow to digest her other food so 
much better, that she derived a greater 
amount of nourishment from it, thun she 
could before receiving this smalt additional 
ration. From this aud other experiments with 
cotton-seed meal fed to various domestic ani¬ 
mals, think that from a single pint to four 
quarts per day, according to the kind and size 
ot the animal, is the cheapest additional food 
that can be given them. “ b,” 
NEW-YORKER. 
fttatji Utistfllaiqj. 
MAKING LIFE LOOK BRIGHTER. 
Sat not, “ The world Beerns dark and drear,” 
But strive yourself to lSylit it; 
Thonch ignorance rage, yet never fear, 
’Tin manhood's work to light it! 
Strive on, ami rust will drop its scales, 
The earnest effort seldom fails, 
And purpose over doubt pro vails, 
Thus making life look brighter. 
Hoes virtue meet with small reward ? 
That thought is worldly-minded: 
For vice herself is oft abhorred 
By slaves whom she has blinded; 
Though now the clouds be dark and dense, 
When wo shall walk by faith, not sense. 
Virtue will have true recompense 
The while the clouds grow lighter. 
Then call not life a •* vale of tears,” 
Our lives are what we make them; 
And we must weigh by “ deeds, not years,” 
If we would not mistake them. 
Improve the years, and life is sweet; 
We sow good seed to reap pure wheat: 
Good thoughts and deeds make life complete. 
And make the soul grow whiter. 
--- 
MARJORIE DAW, 
Marjorie Daw was beautiful as the Spring, and 
as capricious. 
Sometimes she was as gentle as the southwest 
wind bl owing over a bank of violets, anon she was 
petulant as an April storm, tearful, sudden, vio¬ 
lent, with the violence of a spoilt child. Then she 
would be cold, sharp, and shrewish as a northeast 
wind, sweeping past her friends, chilling those 
who loved her to their hearts hr her cutting scorn- 
fulness, mocking alt whom she knew, whether she 
liked them or not. 
It fell out that a great many people disliked 
Marjorie Daw. 
A few loved her deeply. One poor fellow wor¬ 
shipped her madly, as few women and—shall we 
say it, oh, lords of creation ?—fewer men deserve 
to he loved. 
Marjorie Daw made fun of everything and 
everybody, and went on her own way. Her father 
was a tolerably well-to-do, homely farmer; her 
home was a rambling farmhouse in a moun¬ 
tainous country. 
Yarrow Farm stood half-way up a steep, shady 
lane; there were thickets of birch and alder at 
either side the way, and below, far down at the 
bottom of the slope, a broad stream went tumbling 
noisily over the atones, running rapidly towards 
the sea. 
One bright May evening, when the sun was set¬ 
ting behind a black-browed mountain that faced 
the village of Wynn, Marjorie stood at the gate 
which led out of the Yarrow ; she was drawing on 
a pair of dainty kid gloves. -She wore a gray dress 
of silky texture, a little black lace scarf, and a 
white straw hat looped up with a gray feather. 
“ Her father Is not wise to let her dress so p* 
It was Mrs. Williams, the grocer’s wife, who 
spoke thus to her daughter Jane, a buxom, rosy- 
faced lass, dressed stiffly as some dolt at a country 
fair, a white snawl folded square and pinned 
lightly across her cheat, a great black bonnet 
perched on the top of her h°ad, a brown stuff 
dress, and large brown ootton gloves. 
Jane had driven her mother; they had come to 
bring the week’s groceries, and also to pay a visit 
ot ceremony to the family at Yarrow. 
The family consisted of Mr. Daw the farmer, his 
wife, his sister (a prim, kind old woman, in Hat 
curls and spectacles), and the only child of the 
house, Marjorie. 
“ Good evening, Miss Marjorie,” quoth Mrs. Wil¬ 
liams. 
Jane had leaped out of the oart; the good horse 
was browsing at ttie side of the road. Jane as¬ 
sisted her mother to alight, and then she opened 
the back of the cart, and with her strong young 
hands lltted out a basket of groceries. 
Marjorie was all beaming with smiles of wel¬ 
come ; Bhe, like her mother, was hospitality it¬ 
self. 
•• You'll come In and have a good rest? Have 
you had tea ?” 
“ Oh, yes , we ve had our teas,” said Jane; "but 
it was suoh a bonny evening, we thought we 
would come up and see you all," 
Marjorie turned and drew a whistle from her 
girdle, this she blew loudly ; a farm-boy came 
running to the spot, whom she directed lo carry 
the basket Into the house; then she ushered ihe 
visitors Into the strange, quaint old dwelling, 
where she first saw the light. 
There was a narrow stone passage, then there 
was a wide flagged kltehen, with a great oak 
dresser and a raftered roof, an enormous fire¬ 
place, where some logs ot wood smouldered, and 
some clumsy chairs aud tables of dark polished 
wood. 
Marjorie led the way into another room, the 
glory aud pride of the Yarrow, tfle parlor. Now, 
the floor ot this department was covered with a 
smart tapestry carpet. The horsehair furniture 
was enlivened by cushions of silk embroidered by 
those shapely white hands of Marjorie’s, and In 
one corner was a handsome rosewood piano 
“Sit dowu,” said Marjorie, “and I’ll call 
mother.” 
Mrs. Daw, a handsome, buxom dame, soon ap¬ 
peared. Kezia, the tall bony woman-servant, 
brought in a great rich cake and a bottle of goose¬ 
berry-wine, and soon there was feasting and laugh¬ 
ter In the low-colled room. 
Marjorie stole out when her little, mild spec¬ 
tacled aunt came in. She went again to the 
gate, and looked once more at the black hill be 
low which the red sun was sinking. The whole 
sky of the west was a blaze of glory, Golden 
383 
clouds, like plumes from the wings of the cheru¬ 
bim, floated out Into that clear lake of pale blue 
ether. 
Marjorie looked up Into the heavens and sighed. 
She was very beautiful, with dark, dreamy eyes, 
a skin like alabaster, and features ca3t in the 
grand mould ot some nymph of ancient Greece. 
She had a longing after the refinements and ele¬ 
gances ot life—a desire to see the world. She 
was ambitious, talented, with naturally fine tastes. 
Her soul was akin to poetry and the arts, though 
she herself wa3 neither poetess nor artist, but 
only a “ spoiled girl, educated beyond her station 
by her foolish parents,” Bald her female friends 
of the village below. Marjorie was not content, 
with the station in life wherein she found her¬ 
self. She was tired of that stone kitchen, with 
the raftered roof and the oak dresser; tired ot 
her own small neat chamber, with its new, bright 
Kidderminster carpet. Its white muslin curtains 
its shelves loaded with the works ot her favorite 
authors, Dickens. Tackeray, Tennyson, with a 
volume here and there of the modern female 
novelists—tired of the low celling and the case¬ 
ment window, with Its diamond panes, though 
the said window commanded a view of the wooded 
slopes to the left, the village beyond and a whole 
chain of purple mountain-tops In the distance. 
Marjorie wa3 tired ot It all. There were times 
when her wayward, Impatient heart grew hard 
and seltl3h. and then she felt that she was tired 
of her horn ely, adoring parents, their north coun¬ 
try accents, their old-fashioned notions. 
“ • See-saw, Marjorie Daw, 
Sold her bed and lay noon straw. ’ ” 
A little shrill, piping voice was chanting this re¬ 
frain very loudly In the lane. 
Marjorie turned, and perceived a curly-headed, 
hat less girl, wheeling a chuhhy, cross-faced child 
of two, in a perambulator, and staging to it to keep 
It amused. 
The moment the girl ceased to sing the child 
began to cry; so the girl began again, close to 
Marjorie’s gate; 
“' 8ee-eaw Marjorie Daw, 
Sold her bed and lay upon straw. ’ ” 
Majorle smiled faintly. 
“ sometimes I feel that 1 should like to sell 
myself, If by that means 1 could become a lady 
and move In society, ah! and get away from these 
mountains-they chain me in. I feel In prison 
when I look out of the window. I hate the coun¬ 
try ! Oh, to hear those Williams women talk, and 
to see them eat cake!” 
She stamped her foot impatiently. She knew 
that below in the wood, close by the side of the 
stream, a young man, ardent aud Impatient as 
herself, waited for her In a breathless eagerness; 
he worshipped the air she breathed; her lightest 
wishes were his laws, his flery soul bowed down 
at her feet; he was talented - nay, he had genius 
—and his face was noble, but—hla pockets were 
empty; hla coat was shabby, “ He was not a gen¬ 
tleman by Act ot Parliament,’’ as Mrs. Lynn Linton 
says so cleverly of one of her heroes. 
“Do I love Rufus Gorse?” she asked herselr. 
“ What an uncouth name; If I were he, I would 
change It; and his face Is fine—only once have I 
seen a profile like his—the lover In that • Burial of 
Attlla.’” 
Then Marjorie Daw heard the sound of horses’ 
hoofs In the lane, and her heart beat, and her 
cheeks crimsoned. 
Clatter, clatter—trot, trot—Is this the lover with 
the noble face, and the flery soul, and the uncouth 
name, Rufus Gorse? She half turns away. 
If she darted across the road how she would be 
able to dive down amid the tiees quite unseen by 
the approaching horseman, and then she would 
arrive at the stream by the side of whicn Rufus 
Gorse paced impatiently—Rufus, tall, erect, stal¬ 
wart, black-haired, eagle-eyed—Rufus In the very 
glory and strength of youth—for the horseman 
who was approaching was not the hero of Mar¬ 
jorie’s fancy ; and round a bend ot the road he 
came Into sight-a little old man with a wrinkled, 
yellow face, something like the rtnd of an orange, 
bestriding a Bleek, brown pony. 
When the little old man saw Marjorie Daw 
standing at the gate he raised his soft, low- 
crowned felt hat high off his head, and smiled, 
while the crimson flush on Marjorie’s cheeks 
mounted to her white brow. 
She hastened to open the gate. The old man 
dismounted; a second time she used her call 
whistle, and a lad came running from the farm¬ 
yard tn the rear of tae house. 
“Take care of Mr, Peter’s horse, satd Marjorie, 
softly. 
“ Well, Miss Marjorie,” said Mr. Peter, as he 
walked side bv side with Marjorie over the clean, 
flat, white stones that paved the path to the door 
ot the house, “ and how are the tulips looking ? ” 
“Splendid,” she answered. “I was so much 
ob llged to you lor those roots! Would you like to 
walk round and see them ? There are some people 
from Barwell in Che parlor.” 
The old man made a grimace 
“ 1 detest having to do the polite to people chat 
don’t tnteresc me,” he said “ Y'es, come alODg, 
my dear Miss Marjorie, and let me see the tulips.” 
They passed through a wicket-gale into a little 
space that Marjorie called her flower garden; 
there was a smooth patch ot turf, well watered 
and roiled. In the center was a line pear tree, cov¬ 
ered now with a wealth of lovely white bloom; 
there were four gravel paths forming a square, 
and flower-beds ran all round, backed by high 
hedges ot Uurtstlnus and arbutus. 
The flower-beds were aflame with a gorgeous 
show of tulips of all colors, ranging between dark¬ 
est crimson aud faintest pink, deepest orange and 
palest gold. 
“ Well, they certainly do you credit, my dear,” 
said wrinkled old Mr. Peter, adjusting his gold- 
rlmmed spectacles on his rather ugly nose. •• You 
will have to come to beaucourc and see my gar¬ 
dener’s show. I think ’’—wheeling about and look¬ 
ing at her tlxeflly- “ l think I shall have to christen 
you La Belle Jardiniere !”—To be continued. 
