very much, his best plan if he is a judge of cows is to frequent the sale yards, where he may often pick up cheap heifers and break them in, but wherever he buys, if he is no judge himself, he should take a friend with him who is. He must not be too "wise in his own conceit," for their are so many things to be taken into consideration in a milker. I imagine I am writing this to and for "new chums," and though they may have been familiar with cattle all their lives in the old country, I would not trust their judgment in this. It may be said "a cow is a cow all the world over," just so, but the cows that are to be seen on so-called dairy farms in some parts of this country would not be looked at at "Home," their poor appearance and condition would condemn them at once in the opinion of a dairyman from the old world. There the cows are stalled and fed on all sorts of milk producing food. Here, well one has only to look at them to see how very little attention they get. By and bye, when we are older and wiser, we too will stall, feed, and attend to our cows, as doubtless we will to many other things, but at present we are getting along anyhow. I have said there are so many things to consider in a milker. First and foremost is temper and general disposition. A bad tempered cow will never make a good milker. If she does happen to give plenty of milk she is a nuisance in the yard, worrying the other cows, restless, pushing, irritable. She will be a mistake in the yard, just as much so as a bad tempered man. A bad tempered man will never succeed in the milking yard. In breaking in to the bail the greatest patience is necessary, as well as gentleness. You require to make the cow familiar with your voice, and even to the touch of your hand. Speak to her, encourage her as you would a child, do not hurry or frighten her. A nervous cow's milk will not be good, and there is no doubt that numbers of young cows are utterly ruined every year by the foolishness of those who first handle them. Most cows will make good milkers if properly broken in. A man needs to be in sympathy with the animal he handles, be it horse, cow, dog, or any other creature. I once heard it said of an unfortunate half witted lad, "He is splendid with the cows and horses, can do anything with them. If they are ever so wild and rowdy with the others, and Carl goes into the yard, they'll quieten down." I was curious about the matter, because I hold the idea that great intelligence is requisite to manage animals, and that no man or woman of weak intellect should have anything to do with them. So I rose betimes one morning and visited the cow yard while Carl was milking, Long before I reached it I could hear his voice positively chatting—I can use no other term—to the yardful of cows. I kept out of sight, for I knew he would cease talking if he saw me, but I was greatly amused and gained
