The Red Cow and Her Friends

Part 1

THE RED COW AND HER FRIENDS

BY PETER McARTHUR

AUTHOR OF "IN PASTURES GREEN," "THE PRODIGAL AND OTHER POEMS," "TO BE TAKEN WITH SALT," ETC.

TORONTO: J. M. DENT & SONS, LTD. NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY MCMXIX

COPYRIGHT, 1919,

By JOHN LANE COMPANY

Press of J. J. Little & Ives Company New York, U. S. A.

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO ALL CITY MEN WHO FEEL SURE THAT THEY COULD FARM AT A PROFIT. IF EACH ONE BUYS A COPY I CAN AFFORD TO KEEP ON FARMING

PREFACE

It is always a pleasure to avoid responsibility and it gives me a feeling of relief to be able to announce that I am not wholly responsible for this collection of sketches. When it was suggested that I should put together the articles dealing with the Red Cow, and the other farm animals, I felt reluctant to trouble the public with a somewhat frivolous book at the present time. It seemed as if Fate were with me for when it was decided to go on with the book it was found that my file of clippings had been lost. But the matter was still urged and, remembering that at different times readers had written to me saying that they were in the habit of clipping the articles for future reference, I published a paragraph telling of my predicament. The result was that I received clippings from all parts of Canada and some were even sent from neighbouring States.

Through the kindness of my unknown friends I am able to offer a book which they have really edited. Some of the sketches used would have been rejected had I relied on my own judgment, but finding that they had pleased some readers I decided that they might please others. Having the chance to shift the responsibility for the book from my own shoulders, I accepted it joyously. The unknown friends who did me the honour of preserving these articles as they appeared are the real editors.

I can further plead in extenuation that the clippings I have used were all sent to me by people who are familiar with the domestic animals and their habits. This should protect me from any charge of farm-faking.

Ekfrid, Ontario, January, 1919.

CONTENTS

COWS PAGE

I. A SICK COW 15

II. COW TROUBLES 22

III. FLY TIME 26

IV. THE RED COW'S CALVES 29

V. INSURGENT COWS 31

VI. COW TROUBLES 36

VII. THE BRAN HABIT 42

VIII. THE FARROW COW AND OTHERS 43

IX. COW ENJOYMENT 50

X. COW KAISERISM 52

XI. A NIGHT SESSION 55

XII. A CALF PUZZLE 58

XIII. COW CHARACTER 61

Part 2

XIV. CALF FEEDING 63

XV. A COW TRICK 66

XVI. COW CUSSEDNESS 72

XVII. TEACHING A CALF 75

XVIII. CALF EXUBERANCE 77

SHEEP

XIX. OUR FIRST SHEEP 83

XX. THE FIRST LAMB 90

XXI. SHEEP SURGERY 93

XXII. THE PATIENT 98

XXIII. SHEARING 100

XXIV. VAIN REGRETS 104

XXV. SHEEP SCULPTURE 106

XXVI. OUR LAWN MOWER 113

PIGS

XXVII. CLEMENTINE 117

XXVIII. FEEDING PIGS 121

XXIX. BEATRICE 124

XXX. PIG FRIGHTFULNESS 128

XXXI. A PIG BATH 130

XXXII. IN EXTENUATION 132

XXXIII. BEATRICE ANNOUNCES 134

XXXIV. RECEIVING 137

XXXV. FEEDING TIME 140

XXXVI. BEATRICE BELLIGERENT 144

HORSES

XXXVII. DOLLY'S DAY OFF 147

XXXVIII. THE COLT 154

Part 3

XXXIX. HORSE CONTRARINESS 156

XL. A GREAT SCHEME 158

TURKEYS

XLI. THE GOBBLER 163

XLII. HIS TROUBLES 167

XLIII. HIS DESERTION 169

XLIV. HIS BELLIGERENCY 171

XLV. HIS CARES 173

XLVI. HIS PRUSSIANISM 175

DOGS

XLVII. A MORAL TALE 179

XLVIII. SHEPPY'S FIRST COON HUNT 181

XLIX. A RABBIT CHASE 189

L. FIGHTS AND FEUDS 192

CATS

LI. A PAGE OF HIGH HISTORY 197

LII. A SPRING ORGY 200

BIRDS

LIII. A DISGUSTED BLACKBIRD 205

LIV. A VISITOR 209

LV. A FAREWELL 211

GENERAL

LVI. THE WHOLE BUNCH 215

LVII. HUMAN NATURE IN DUMB CREATURES 221

LVIII. EARLY OBSERVATIONS 227

LIX. BANTAMS 232

LX. A LITTLE TRAGEDY 234

LXI. A SCIENTIFIC QUERY 236

Part 4

LXII. A POULTRY NOTE 238

LXIII. SPRING AND THE LIVESTOCK 240

LXIV. FIRST SNOW 242

LXV. A "SKIFT" OF SNOW 244

LXVI. A SPRING SHOWER 247

LXVII. DOING CHORES 249

LXVIII. FISHING 251

LXIX. A LONESOME SQUIRREL 255

LXX. FALL POULTRY TROUBLES 258

LXXI. THANKSGIVING DAY 263

LXXII. SEPTEMBER NOTES 270

LXXIII. "THE DEMON RABBIT" 273

LXXIV. THE FATE OF "THE DEMON RABBIT" 278

LXXV. MY FRIENDS, THE TREES 282

COWS

A BALLADE OF COWS

Fenceviewer I. a cow of parts, Aggressive, competent and bold, At every milking gives twelve quarts And doesn't give a--hoot!--(don't scold!) My Kerry cow, as good as gold; Fenceviewer II.--(boss, they say) La Veau, turned three; Beans, two-year-old-- These are the cows I milk each day!

When Phœbus shoots his morning darts, Or wet or dry, or hot or cold, One to the dewy pasture starts With clanging pails and pants up-rolled. Again when evening doth enfold The earth and sky in twilight grey, Him at that chore you may behold-- These are the cows I milk each day!

Although unskilled in dairy arts I've soaked some lore by experts doled, With gentle words that win their hearts My cows from kicking I've cajoled; And of all cattle, horned or polled, Pure-bred or grade, own them who may, Mine suit me best. They'll not be sold-- These are the cows I milk each day!

ENVOY

Prince, if you ever in the wold At milking time should chance to stray, I'll let you drink all you can hold-- These are the cows I milk each day!

I.--A Sick Cow

This week the monotony of the winter has been broken. I have been sitting up with a sick cow. Fenceviewer I. has suffered the first check in her career of rapacity, voracity and capacity. A couple of days ago it was noticed that she was off her feed--that she only nibbled at the blue grass when it was put in her manger. Knowing that in her normal condition she is an incarnate appetite--"A belly that walks on four legs"--I knew that something was the matter. I could not imagine her refusing to eat until Death had "clawed her in his clutch," so I took the matter seriously from the beginning. I also noticed that she did not take kindly to water, but stood over it and shivered. There was no doubt about it. She was a sick cow. After a hasty consultation it was decided to give her a dose of salts, and I commandeered all that we had in the house--almost a pound. After it had been dissolved in about a quart of warm water I took some further advice and added to it, for her stomach's sake, a couple of tablespoonfuls of a sovereign liniment and embrocation, good for man and beast, and paramount for poultry, a remedy for all ills that any kind of flesh is heir to, may be used internally or externally at any time of the day or night without regard to the phases of the moon or the signs in the almanac. All I know about this remedy is that it is a red fluid made of red pepper, red whiskey and all the other red-hot things in the Pharmacopœia. It is the stuff that was once given to an ailing coloured woman, and when she was offered a second dose she declared with vigour, "No thankee! Ah've done made up ma mind never again to take nuttin' that wattah won't squench." Having added this mixture to the salts I put it in a quart bottle, called for help, and proceeded to put the red dose into the red cow.

* * * * *

We did the trick in the most approved fashion. I caught her by one horn, slipped my thumb and finger into her nose, and elevated her head so that the other man could pour the mixture down her throat. After the last drop had gurgled down I turned her loose and stepped back to watch results. She shook her head, rattled her chain, lashed her tail, wriggled her backbone, coughed and sneezed and showed other unmistakable signs of wrath and discomfort. She did not seem to appreciate our efforts in her behalf, and after I had thought it over for a minute I realised what she was objecting to. I put myself in her place. What would I want to do if any one had forced a dose like that down my throat? I would want to spit, of course. That was what was the matter with old Fenceviewer. She wanted to spit, but the limitations of a cow are such that she couldn't do it. If she were only able to do it she would spit like a cat. I felt truly sorry for her, but as I had done everything for the best I didn't do any worrying. While watching her I noticed that she grunted faintly every time she breathed, so I decided that we needed some expert advice and called in a neighbour who has had much experience with cows. After he had pressed his ear to her side for a while he diagnosed her case as pleuro-pneumonia. It had never occurred to me before that dumb animals could have diseases with Latin names and that probably needed high-priced treatment. He advised calling in the farrier at once, and I dispatched a boy to the nearest telephone to do this, and we went to the house to await his arrival. The boy reported that the farrier was out, but that he would come as soon as he could. While waiting we talked about all the sick cows we had ever known, and as most of them had died I found the conversation somewhat depressing. I can honestly say of Fenceviewer I., "With all thy faults I love thee still." She is the progenitor of the whole flock, and her strain is the kind I need. She can rustle for herself except when she is chained up, and if she had to do it she could get through the winter by licking the moss off the trees. She is no stall-fed exotic, but a hardy annual who in spite of her good breeding has a touch of the qualities that made the pioneer cows endure hardships and give rich milk. I could ill afford to lose her from either a financial or scientific point of view. We whiled away several hours with gloomy forebodings, occasionally taking the lantern to go to the stable and look her over. But there was nothing we could do for her, and she grunted rhythmically every time she breathed, sometimes standing up and sometimes lying down. About twelve o'clock we decided that the farrier was not coming, and the neighbour went home and I went to bed. Just as I got sound asleep the household was aroused by shrill whistling, and I got up to find that the farrier had come. Getting into my clothes as quickly as possible I took the lantern and hurried to the stable. The farrier examined her, confirmed my neighbour's diagnosis and added that the attack was complicated by a serious case of "impaction of the rumen." I was glad that he didn't say that she had appendicitis or adenoids, for I had made up my mind that I was neither going to pay for a costly operation nor to send her south for her health.

Continue reading The Red Cow and Her Friends free in the Wunder reader →