1 Fers., 1898. ] QUEENSLAND AGRICULTURAL JOURNAL. 111 
Now as'to the humanitarian side of this question. Humane people who 
live in towns, and have no practical experience with stock, speak of dishorning 
as cruel. But itis not. It is an act of mercy to prevent cows from injuring 
each other, and there is little more pain connected with it than there is in 
trimming a finger-nail. 
The cows were given horns to protect themselves from their enemies, but, 
in our modern civilisation, man protects the cow from her enemies, and she does 
not need horns for her defence. Even Mother Nature herself seems to 
recognise this fact. The great Texas steers, that have to fight for their lives 
against wolves, bears, and members of their own kind, have long, sharp, cruel 
horns, with a spread often of four feet, and they have to use them savagely in 
order to live. The gentle Jersey cow, with man as her friend, and with no 
yersistent enemy larger than a house-fly, has stubby, useless little horns of 
ae or five inches in length, and doubtless Nature will, in time, eliminate 
even these. 
When man removes the horns from domestic stock he is only finishing up 
what Nature has begun. 
Nervousness and dread among dairy cows do not increase the milk-giving. 
Quietness and gentleness should reign supreme on the dairy farm. If the 
farmer can teach his cow that she has nothing to fear from the horns of her 
sister, he will see the result of his teaching in the milk-pail. 
Removing the horns, when it is properly done, is not a painful operation, 
as is evidenced by the fact that it will scarcely interfere with the flow of a 
cow’s milk as much as the chase round the pasture in front of the farmer’s dog 
will do. Those best acquainted with dishorning and its results are its strongest 
advocates. 
SWINE-BREEDING. 
Norwirusranpine all that is written about the care of swine, we still find 
these animals treated with neglect by a majority of farmers. Why this should 
be the case when so little outlay is required to make them comfortable, is 
incomprehensible. They are not costly animals to keep. They eat refuse 
produce, such as cabbage-leaves, small potatoes, sweet-potato vines, damaged 
corn, and other things which have no value to the farmer except for a compost 
heap, which, by the way, is seldom met with ona farm. Once a good breed of 
pigs has been secured, two or three successful farrowings will repay the first 
outlay, and after that any sales are actually nearly all profit. For instance, 
suppose a man to pay £10 for a boar and £5 for two sows, an outlay of £15. 
If the two sows farrowed between them a dozen slips, these would at eight 
weeks old sell for about £5. ‘This pays for the sows. Two more litters would 
pay for the boar. But if the young pigs were kept till they attained a-weight 
of from 80 to 100 lb. they would bring from £1 to £1 5s. each, or nearly the 
amount of the original outlay. Now what have these animals cost: to keep ? 
Practically nothing, for they have been the scavengers of the farm, consuming 
only that which is of no market value. If pumpkins are fed to them, still they 
haye been cheaply kept, for pumpkins are often unsaleable, or, if saleable, then 
at such market rates as often preclude their being sent by rail to market. 
There is, however, always a market for pigs, which of course fluctuates accord- 
ag 0 aie supply. hen why not help the pig to make money by taking care 
of him} 
The Scottish Farmer says :—In feeding all kinds of pigs, experience has 
taught us that there are three points which require special attention—(l) The 
absolute necessity of caution in changing from one diet to another; (2) the 
