Heaven, Is My Rotolactor

This is the original rotolactor, and the only one in the world except the one to be at the World’s Fair. Doesn’t it remind you of a Merry-Go-Round?

We visited the Walker-Gordon Farm to-day. Which is one of the largest in the country (2400 cows!) Am enjoying the training course immensely. They have some very attractive girls in the group. We have to study our heads off too. Will write as soon as I have some spare time. Enjoyed seeing you all so much when I was home. Love, Emilie

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Revealed: Elsie the Cow Reads ‘The Farmer With Cold Hands’

Elmer is at the left, Elsie at right, and young Beauregard in his playpen. Elsie’s dressing table, made of barrels, has milk bottle lamps and her toiletries include Tail Weave Set, Henna Fur Glaze and Meadow Mud Pack. Elmer’s chair is made of actual wheels with barrel staves for rockers. The sampler over the mantel, Elise did when she was just a heifer. The candle sticks are half ears of corn and the bed ladders have scythe-handles for supports. Books in the breakfront include The Farmer With Cold Hands, Animal Husbandry and Wifery, and Bulliver’s Travels. Elsie’s dressing table mirror is a large frying pan and the floor lamp is an old churn.

Where can I get some of that Tail Weave Set, Henna Fur Glaze, and Meadow Mud Pack? I must call Borden Co. to find out!

Kitty Spills Her Milk!

It looks to me as if Barney is a bit soused. But then, it also appears to me as if Kitty just might be faking her falling tears.

The poem:

As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping
With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine,
When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher down tumbled,
And all the sweet butter-milk watered the plain.
Oh! what shall I do now? ’twas looking at you, now;
Sure, sure, such a pitcher I’ll ne’er meet again;
‘Twas the pride of my dairy! O Barney M’Cleary,
You’re sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine!

I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her,
That such a misfortune should give her such pain;
A kiss then I gave her, and, ere I did leave her,
She vowed for such pleasure she’d break it again.
‘Twas hay-making season–I can’t tell the reason–
Misfortunes will never come single, ’tis plain;
For very soon after poor Kitty’s disaster
The devil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.

Don’t cry over spilt milk, Kitty!!! When you get back from the haystack you might want to take a look at these recipes and try some, from the best book on milk I’ve ever read.

By the way, Barney’s shoes look strangely tight. Is he okay?!