HomeMy WebLinkAboutZurich Herald, 1915-07-02, Page 6TheL d„ r. 'of .t.
Ors Leonora West's' Love.
C11,*;PTER XXXV.-(Cont'd).
"Ah,,.:why-.? I have my suspicions
Lieutenant De Vere, but I shall no
impart them to any` one—at least. n
yet. • But he has behaved very badly
going off like this. I do not know
how to make excuses ' for him, least
of all to Lady Adele. She was jealous
Iast night. I :could see that. What
will she say now? Clive has been
playing fast and loose with me ever
since last fall. It cannot go on for-
ever. I shall oke hiin understand
that."
with vexation. "Slee is full of spleen
and venom. I must go out or I shall
be tempted to say .something sharp
of to her."'
Ile went and as he was leaving, she
fired a lash shot at him:
"Take my advice, and don't delay
the proposal, young man. Don't let
excessive modesty deter you. Re-
member that faint heart never won
fair lady."
"Do not be. too hard upon him.
Give him time, Lady Lncaeter. Be
will not brook harshness, he will
break a tight rein and escape from
it. ou'thouldyknow that much of all
men's natures, said De Vere, plead-
ing for his friend.
"I have not been hard upon him. I
have been. most patient; but his be-
havior' is inexplicable," cried she. "I
have: offered a .wife and a fortune to
him -a beautiful, high -bred, high-
born wife, and a splendid fortune --
yet
yet he is indifferent to • both. All
Lady, Ade�la.s beauty makes no im-
pression on him. He is barely civil
to her. What is the matter with him,
Lieutenant De Vere? Is he going to.
be fool enough to fly in .the face of
his own good fortune?"
"I hope not" said Lieutentnt De
Vere, but he looked very anxious, He
remembered that "whom the gods
wish to destroy they first make mad."
Lancaster was mad—mad with love
for the beautiful, penniless American
girl, Leonora West. De Vere had
suspected it all along, he was sure of
it now. That song last night had
opened his eyes. A pang of bitter,
futile jealousy shot through his
heart. He believed that his friend
was an unacknowledged rival. A
vague terror of the end rushed over
him. Who would win, Lancaster or
himself ?
Lady Lancaster came nearer to
him—she looked anxiously at him
with her small, bead-like black eyes.
"You and . Clive are intimate," she
said; "you ought to know. a great
deal about him. Tell me what it is
that makes him so blind to his own
interests? Is there any one in the
way?:' Is there any woman in the
case?"
"I am not in Lancaster's "confidence,
believe me, Lady Lancaster," he re-
plied. "If there be any woman in the
case, he , has never told me so., Per-
haps you are making a mountain out
of a little mole -hill." •
She studied, him attentively.- I shall
find out nothing from you. I can see
that," she said.
"You will never learn anything
from me derogatory to his interests
--be sure of thatt," he replied, loyal
to his friend in spite of reawakened
jealousy.
"And your own wooing—how does
that .prosper ? she .inquired, with
something .like a sneer, abruptly
changing the subject.
He flushed indignantly.
"You are pleased to jest on deli-
cate subjects, Lady Lancaster," he
said, stiffly.
"I beg your pardon" she answered,
quickly. "I did not know you were
so sensitive, but I assure you that I.
-take a great interest in your love
affair."
"Thank you. I understand the ori-
gin of your interest," he answered,
with a slight smile; and she winced
perceptibly. She did not want him
to know whither her suspicions tend-
ed.
"I dare say you think me a very
meddlesome old woman," she, said,
abruptly; "but you have my best
wishes for a successful suit. gees
West is beautiful and accomplished,
and with your wealth you can have
no difficulty in lifting her to your.
level.
"She is the most beautiful of wo-
Men," he answered, forgetting his
momentary ill -humor in the pleasure
she awoke in him by her artful'
praise of Leonora.
"And you will lose no time in mak-
ing her your own? Delays are dan-
gerous," she said, with a subtle
meaning his
t beat,
"I know that. But I ani a coward;
I am almost ,afraid to ask her for the
boon I crave most upon earth," ' he
said, giving her in those few words a
glimpse into his full heart.
"Pshaw! you are a. coward," said
eny lady, laughing. "Where is the wo-
man
our face
is going to refuse you with
y a e and forts ne , You are�� a
prize in. the matrimonial market.
"But I want to be accepted for my-
self, and jnot for my fortune, Lady
Lancaster, he answered, proudly,
and yet not without a sense of satis-
faction over these worldly advant-
ages
dvant
ages of his. It was very pleasant to
be his own piaster, to be able to do.
as he pleased, to ask no one't 'leave
to marry whom he wished,
Lady Lancaster laughed a very. dis-
ageeable laugh.
"As I ani such an old woman, you
will forgive me foretelling ryou snot to
be a fool, Lieutenant ;De V er,e, she
said. "There are very few men who
ere married for themselves alone in
these days, and, id let me add,there are.
very few who deserve it. he aver-
age woman looks out for money and
peritiion row, Be sensible, and thank
your lucky stars that when you go to
roe r t Mize West you cart carr,, a foi-
1 h your, hand, as well as:a
t
sl'li t a very disagreeable old wo-
re. li; raid to himself, reddening
CHAPTER XXXVI.
Sitting in'the quiet little. room of
Mrs. West that. morning, with the
golden sunlight •of June,shining in
through the screen of flowers at ..the
window, the pretty American girl lis-
tened to the story of the grande pas-
sion told in as eloquent phrases as
the young soldier could command—a
story as old as the world, but ever
sweet and new.
Leonora listened with dewy eyes
and hushing cheeks. She knew the
value of all that he was offering to
her—knew that he was wealthy, that
he was heir to a title, that he had a
warm, true, manly heart, and that
in his affection for her he was run-
ning ceu iter to the wishes and de-
sires of all his friends. It was but -
natural that she should feel proud of
his homage. She wished that she
might have loved him in return. A.
sense. of shame and embarrassment
stole over her at the thought that
while he offered her so much she
could give him nothing save the calm
regard of a friend.
She drew away the hand of . which
he had possessed himself, and the
'rich roses mantled her cheeks as she
said, gently and sadly:
"I thank you very much' _ for the
honor you have done me, and I wish
that I could' love you, but—"
• "But what? Oh, Leonora you are
not goingto be cruel to are
not. going. to refuse me ?" he cried,
anxiously, and he looked so handsome
and so ardent that her heart ached
for him, and she wished' again that
she might have loved him, and said
yes instead of no to his manly pro-
posal.
"I am very' sorry," she said, and
the pretty.. face looked so shy and
troubled, that he longed to gather her
in his arii�ais and kiss the sweet lips
into smildleagain. "I am very sorry,
and I don't`emean to be cruel, Lieu-
tenant De Vere—but 'I must refuse,
because 1 clo ii of love you."
"Let me teach you," he cried, ee-
i1 dently. "I know I have been 'tyro pre-
mature. I have asked you to' love. me
too soon; heti have been so afraid of
a rival, my darling."
Leonora smiled pensively and bit-
terly.
"A rival," she said, with a quiclely
suppressed . sigh. "Ali, you need not
have feared that! No one would sae-
rifice anything for my sake but you,"
He thought he understood the i1-
Iusion and his heart sunk. HL gently
touched the small hand that lay on.
her black dress.
"Do not judge any one hardly, Miss
West," he said. "There are many
who would love you and make sacri-
fices for you if they had the chance.
And you know I should not have to
make any sacrifice at all. T am rich
in my own right. I' could lift you at
once from -the level you now occupy
to one more worthy of you—one you
would adorn: and vtiiiere your beauty
and accomplishments would be Bated
at their full value. Oh,' Leonora! do
not say no just yet. Let me woo you
a little longer—a month a year. In
time' you might learn to ve me. Let
me still hope on. I love ou so
dear-
ly I can not give you up yet!'"
She blushed deeply, and the long
lashes drooped over her cheeks, but
she answered, firmly: '
"It would be very cru61 for me to
Iet you keep on hoping Iihe that,Lieu-
tenant De Vere. I could nevr be
yours it you waited months and
years. I will tell you_ the truth. There
is"—a gasp—"some one—some one
else that I love."
A moment's dead silence. `• The girl
drops her shamed face in her lianas.
Presently he says huskily, yet -with
manly courage:
It is some fortunate suitor you
have left in America. Let me con-
gratulate you, Miss West."
But she answers, in a sad, shamed
voice:
"No, you need not' congratulate me.
I am not "any happier than you;are.
He—he does, not love me.
Does not love • you? Then he
must he a stock er a stone," De Vere
says, indignantly.
"He is neither,"says Leonora, with
the pretty pensive .smile she has worn
throughout their interview. "But let
us 'speak no more of it. •.I should.not
'have eonfed'sed to4you only: to show
you how futile it ,would be for you
to go on loving ,.me. I thought it 'but
justice to you. ;It; may ,make it eas-
ier for you to" forget. .:me.
"I shall never .d. that," he answers
wih edTiviction. 4.
"You think so now?.but time will
eonsole'you," siriilins.. >" hall be
gone out of your life fore •r,;in a few
weeks.
"Gone?" he 'echoes, blankly.
"Yes; I amgoing away in three
weeks time., Aunt West goes with
me to Ameriea.
He starts,
"Is it passible?"
"Yes we are goingto seek` a, home
in my own land. BiHie bon voyage,
Lieutenant De Vere. You are the
only friend. I' have made in England,
that is, if I may call you my friend,"
wistfully.
He gulps down a great sigh of die -
appointment, regret, and pain, and
holds out his hand,
"Yes, I am your friend, if I can
not be your lover," he said, manfully.
CHAPTER XXXVIL
Something ike a week later Lieu.-
tenant De Vere, st g down a
street in London, comes suddenly face
to face with Clive, Lord Lancaster.
"What! not gone home yet?" says
the former, in surprise, and Len -
easter flushes guiltily.
"No; but when did you cometo
London?" he inquires,
"Several days ago," De Vere re-
plies, carelessly, and scanning his
friend curiously. Lancaster dpes not
bear the scrutiny . well. Ile ie wan
and haggard looking.There is no
color in his usually florid face; and
his eyes are heavy* and restless,;,
"You have not finished,' your visit
so soon, I trust," he observes, eyeing
his friend in turn with a close scru-
tiny. De Vere has a worn air, too, as
if 'dull and ennuye.
"Yes, I have finished my visit; I
clid'not care to remain after my host
took such a cavalier flight.
"Ali, indeed!" sarcastically. "But
I did not know that T was the obJect
of your visit."
"You were' not, particularly; but
I' came away because I had no longer
any excuse for staying."
The tone was so peculiar that Lan-
caster looked at him more closely.
He caught De Vere by the arm a lit-
tle nervously. •
"De Vere, you don't mean to tell
me that she has refused you?"
She is so indefinite. Whom do
,you mean?" . airily.
T thought there was but one she
in the case. Miss West, of course."
eobte
"Has she refused' you,.I say, De
Vere?" imploringly.
eyes.”
"Really?" with something like in-
credulous joy in his,voice, though he
tries hard to keep it out of.it. He
has been so jealously sure all the
while that Leonora would accept "the
goods the gods provided," 'that he
can scarcely take in the truth now.
"`Yes, Miss West has refused me,
really. You seem glad of my ill -hick,
Lancaster," in a tone of subdued bit-
terness.
Lancaster is suddenly shocked at
'himself.
"Oh, no, no! 1 beg your` pardon a
hundred . times, I did not mean it at
all. I am sorry. for you, old fellow,
but I can not understand it, really."
"Perhaps you are dull of compre-
hension. Take" a cigar to brighten
up your understanding."
They light their cigars and walk
on together, and then De Vere con-
tinues,:
on
tinues;
"What is it about' the affair that -
you can not understand?"
"That she should • refuse Clunk: I
thought she. would' be sure to aecdpt."
"Ali!" said Lieutenant De Vere,
dryly, and then he took several moody
puffs at his cigar.
Yes, I honestly thought so. Did
she give you any reason for refusing
you?"
"Two reasons," De Vere replied, la-
conically.
"One ought to, have been enough,"
said his'friend.
"Yes, it ought to have:been,' I
know,"said De Vere, reddening
warmly. "But, you see, I did riot'
want to take no for• an answer, so
when she said she couldn't marry me
because she didn't love me I wanted
her to take time. You see, I thought
she might learn to love me. 'So, then,
to escape my importunities, she had
to put in another reason."
"And that?" asked Lancaster.
"I• am not sure thateI ought to tell.
I think she told me as a secret," he
answered, thoughtfully.
And then when he saws, Lancaster's
grave, disappointed face, he. said,
suddenly:
"Tell me your secret, ' Lancaster,
and I will tell you hers. Why did you
run away from Lancaster Park?"
"Because I was a coward, De Vere
-' that is all," bitterly.
"But why? Were you afraid that
your aunt would marry you off willy-
nilly to the earl's daughter?"
"Not exactly, although there was
some danger of it," said Lancaster,
smiling.
"There was some other reason,
then? Come; old fellow, are you
ashamed to confess the truth?"
"I' should have been a week ago. I
think :I might own it now with the
bribe you offered in view."
"What was it, then?" curiously.
"This; I was madly in love with
Leonora West, and too selfish, or too
jealous, or too great a coward, to
stay and witness your happiness as
her. accepted lover." •
''Hum! All the happiness you
would hae witnesse wouldn't have
hurt you,"ruefully. "And so you ran
away like a coward! What have you
been doing all this' while, truant?"
"All sorts of foolish things, I'm
afraid.' For one thing, I've been try-
ing to exchange out of my own regi-
ment into one ordered to India,"•
Lieutenant De Vere was betrayed
into a whistle of profound surprise:
'4Whewl„
•Yes, admitted the big, .handsome
fellow, shamefacedly.
"But do you mean to tell me that
you were going ter throw over the
whole thing, Lady Lancaster, Lady
Adele, and all—just because you were
disappointed in love?" queried De
Vere, in wonder.
"Yes, r believe "I was --though I
didn't think much ah about it You see,
Iwas just u
running
away a
g headlong
ad o...
frof n my own misery." . ing
I did not really 'believe you were
so romantic," said De Vere aft"
loo 'pause. , ter a
sag.. .
You mean
i so foolish," said his
friend,, eyeing him closely,
"Well; perhaps so," admit ed
t the
lieutenant. *Mµ
"A man must be far one, indeed,
to throw away twenty thousand a
year and ,an earl's daughter for the
beaux Yeaux of a pretty little penniless
girl. Such luck is not met with every
day.,'
"Leonora is worth it all," said Lan-
caster;, warm,
"Yes, ifa onely, could win her;' but
but then you were throwing all away,
without anything. in return. You
should have remembei!ed thatou
would lose all and gain nothing. What
says the poet: •
"`What care 1 how fair she. be,
If she be not fair for me?'
Lancaster said' nothing, only sighed
furiously,
"Look here, old fellow," said his
friend. "Tell me the truth. If you
could get Leonora, would you really
throw over all the rest for her ?
Would you do the all for love, and
the world well lost' business?"
An eloquent look from Lancaster's
dark -blue eyes was, his only answer.
"You 'would. Then you are.. "a far
gone indeed, I do not think I ought
to countenance you in such egregious
folly. I think you will becured of
your madness when I' tell you her.
second reason for not loving me."
Lancaster looked at him imploring-
ly.,
mploring-
ly.
"Say what you are going to say,
De Vere," he said, almost roughly in
the misery that filled. his voice; "but
don't chaff! Think what I've endured
already. I' love, Leonora to madness.
If you think there's any hope for me,
say so at once and put me out of
misery."
"Lancaster, I'm sorry for you, upon
my soul, but I don't think there's any
chance for you at all. Miss West
told me quite frankly that she was in
love with another man."
Lancaster gives a great start. He
says, hurriedly:
"Who is the happy man?" '
"She would not tell, but of course
it cannot be you, because she says it
is .quite a hopeless passion.. He -does
not love her; she admitted that with
the reddest blushes."
"No, of course, it can not be me,
for I am quite sure she knows my
heart. I have shown her my love un-
wittingly more than once, and been
laughed at for my pains," Lancaster
admits, with bitter chagrin and de-
spair struggling in his voice. •
"Poor little girl! It. is strange that
she should love in vain. .It is a cold-
hearted man indeed that could be in-
sensible to so much beauty and sweet-
ness," De Vere muses aloud. "I think
it is some one she has 1 t in New.
York, for she -and Mrs. West are go-
ing to sail for America next week, to
make their home there."
"Then that ends all," Lancaster
says, moodily. •
"Yes," De Vere • answers, rather
gravely. "And , there will be one
erage folded down forever in both our
lives, eh, old fellow? We are ii the.
wore , boat, you see. But take my ad-
viee,, Laza@aster, doze -Cit this episode
spoil your prospects. - Throw '.up the
India scheme, and go home and. marry
the earl's daughter." 1
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
Lady . Lancaster was surprised and
angry and frightenedall in one when
she heard that Leonora West had re-
fused Lieutenant De Vere. She made
him n the truth'when to carne to'
ow
make • his hasty adieus, and she round- '
ly abused the "pert minx," as she'
called her, for her "impertinence and
presumption."
"Who does she' think she will get?
Does she think she will capturan
earl or a duke?" she sneered, and De 1
Vere answered, coldly:
o no leve that s e has an
"Id tba
li h y
matrimonial designs on any one,
Lady 'Lancaster. She returns to.
America in a very few days." 1
!Lady Lancaster was so surprised
'that she gave 'vent to her relief 'by a ,
hasty exclamation:
"Thank Heaven! And -I devoutly
-wish that she had: remained there."
"There are mord` 'persons than `one I
did not come to terms soon she would
never forgive him, and worse still,:
she would cut him out of her will.
Lancaster threw that letter angrily
into the Are, and swore to himself'
that he would not go near Lancaster.
He would go off to India, and she
might buy another husband for her
favorite with the money she prized
so much. • I•l!e. Would .have none of
it.
(To be continued.)
SIR DOUGLAS HAIG.
Anecdotes Which Show the Calibre of
British Generals,
A friend of mind, . Mr. de F., who
since the beginning of this war was
attached to .the "Mission Francaise,"
near the British headquarters of Sir
John French, and who followed the
fortune of the British army; related to
me an anecdote showing the calmness
and - self-control of Sir Douglas Haig
in the face of a very great danger,
writes Mr. Paul Balbaud.
This was during the retreat towards
Paris, when the Britisharrny was
closely pressed by the German troops.
Sir Douglas Haig was with his offi-
vers, in Landre'cies. It was dinner
time, and all the staff was at the table
when the general was informed that
Germans had reached the place' with
motor cars and the headquarters was
in a very critical position, risking be-
ing surrounded any minute.
Sir Douglas Haig quietly got up,
gave his orders for the defence of the.
place, ordered the barricade ,of the
streets, and probably knowing that
the forces the Germans had brought
hurriedly were not important enough
to prevent his passage, sat again at
the table and continued his meal. as
quietly as if he were a hundred miles
away from a deadly danger, ,though
the fight was going on and the bullets
whistling all through the streets of
the city. He was right since he pass-
ed and is now in command of his army
in the north. '
According to my friend, the bravery
of Sir Douglas Haig has been very
often proved during this terrible war,
where bravery becomes so difficult in
front of an enemy, who most of the
time remains invisible and under the
pouring rain of murderous shells.
Once, not very long ago, some-
where around Ypres during the first
battle of the Yser, one of the roads
of communication between two towns
occupied by the British troops was
under the enemy's shells and it was
most dangerous to pass along it. Sir
Douglas Haig having to go to inspect
his advance troops, rode towards
them on horseback, and seemingly im-
mune from the terrible danger, went
on as quietly as if • he had been on a
morning ride • ` at Hyde Park. My
firend, who was in his limousine with
the French mission, confessed that he
would have liked very much to pass
at full speed across the dangerous sec-
tor, but taken by the sight of such
bravery, he followed the general with-
out increasing his speed. Men of that
sort in our days are real leaders of
troops, as men wouldgo anywhere
when they have confidence in their
chiefs.
SILVER THREADS AMONG' THE
GOLD.
Darling, I am • growing old,
I Si ver threads among the gold
Shine upon my brow to-day—
Life is fading fast away;
But, my darling, you will be.
Always young and fair to me;
Yes, my darling, you will be
Always young and fair to me.
When your hair is silver white,
And your cheeks no longer bright'
With the roses of the May '
I will kiss your lips and say;
O, my darling, mine alone,
You have never older grown
Yes, my darling, mineealone;
You have never older grown.
who will agree with your Iadyship
there," he said, betrayed into a,laugh
at her naivete.
"Whom?" she exclaimed, with • a
start.
`'Myself for one," he answered. "1
am not at liberty to implicate any
elle else."
She gavehim a savage glance.
"Do you mean my nephew?" she
inquired.
"I said I was not at liberty to name
any one else," he replied.
Then he went away, and Lady Lan-
caster straightaeray confided the fact
of his rejection to all the ladies in
the house.Y'They all agreed with her
that Leoib ra West 'was an impertin-
ent ' minx'to have refused such a
splendid ogee, but that it was a nar-
row 'escape 'for Lieutenant De Vere,
and that he had need to be very
thankful over it.
In the' meantime 'yancastei sLad. L ' 1
guests grew very curious over her !
nephlev,! s absence. The earl and his
daughter talked of going away. They !
felt ;secretly aggrieved • and resentful ;
over Lord' Lancaster's continued ab-
sence. . It was a palpable slight to
them. They did not believe the story
of important business in Leaden.
What business ' could he have?
Lady Lancaster wrote her nephew
a sharp, imperative letter of recall:
She was on thorns lest her long-
cherishecl scheme should fail. She
intimatedquite plainy that her pa-
tience was exhausted and that if he
Love can never more "'row old—
Locks May lose their brown and gold,
Cheeks may fade and hollow grow, •
But the hearts that love will know
Never, Winter's frost and chill;
Summer warmth is in them still;
Never Winter's frost and chill
Summer warmth' is in them still.
Love is always young and fair
What to us is silver hair,
Faded cheeks or 'steps grown slow
To the heart that beats below?
Since I kissed •you, nine alone,
You have never older grown-
Since, I kissed you, mine alone,
You have never older grown.
—Eben E. 'Rexford.
Never in Funds.
"Blivins reminds me of .the letter
,et.”
"VThy so?"
"Because he's always out of 'cash'
and invariably in `debt' "
INPLIJEN
Catarrhal i'O'bber,
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lielseilmeklibioavootowvrio
On the Farm
Starting a Dairy Herd.
With the average farmer the cheap-
est and most satisfactory way of
starting a dairy herd is to select aft
foundation stock good grade cowEf
and a pure bred bull of one of the
strictly dairy breeds. The grading
up will be most rapid when the pre-
dominant blood in the grades corre-
spond with the blood of the sire,
writes Mr. John Michels.
A foundation of this kind, of course,
does not produce stock that can be
registered; butby continuing the use
of good, pure-bred bulls of the same
blood, stock is soon obtained which,.
so far as milk and butter production
are concerned, very closely ap-.
proaches in value that of pure breed-
ing.
To start with a pure-bred herd is
practically beyond the means of the
majority of farmers. Furthermore,
there is an objection to placing well -
cared -for, . pure-bred cows under` av-3
erage conditions as to feed, care and..
management, because under any such.
change the attainment of satisfactory
results would be practically impos-
sible. Where there is a gradual in-
fusion of pure blood, as in the case
of grading up a herd with pure-bred
sires, the new blood is gradually ac-
customed to the change of environ-
ment, the herdsman is given the ne-
cessary time to change his methods to
meet the requirements of pure-bred
cattle.
Where the dairyman understands
the management,' of the pure-bred
stock and has the means with which
to buy the right kind, a pure-bred
herd may be started to good advant-
age. •
One of the chief dangers in start-
ing with a pure-bred herd is the lack
of funds to procure the right sort of
animals. Instead of buying a pure-
bred bull and a number of pure-bred
cows of common merit, it is better
policy to buy relatively cheap grade
cows, and to add the money thus sav-
ed to that originally set aside for the
bull. This extra money is likely to
be the means of securing a bull of
outstanding, merit.
Whether the cows be grades or
pure-breds, it is of the highest im-
portance in building up a dairy herd
to secure a pure-bred bull of real
merit. Unless the bull is descended
from good milkers, it is; folly to ex-
pect him to produce good milkers, no
matter how fine or ideal he may be
as an individual. .
It is, furthermore, of importance to
remember that a herd cannot be suc-
cessfully built up unless the bulls
that are successively used belong to
the same breed. If the grading -up is
begun with a Jersey bull the process
must be continued uninterruptedly
by the use of Jersey blood.
The importance of the dairy sire is
recognized .in the expression: "The
brill is half the herd." Usually, how-
ever, the bull is more than half the
herd, either for good or bad. In the
case of common or grade cows, for
example, the pure-bred bull may
count for three quarters or more, of
the herd by reason of his greater pre-
potency. To so great an extent does
the bull .determine the improvement
or deterioration . of • the herd as ' to
'call for theutmost caution in his
selection.,
In the case of a dairy bull, espe-
cially a young bull, his chief value is
determined by theperformances of
his. ancestry. The points of greatest
importance to consider in his pedi-
gree are. the following: (1) The merit
of his mother and his sire's mother;
(2) The merit of the daughters of
his sire and grandsire; (3) The value
of the daughters of his darn and his
grandam; (4) The value of his sisters,
if he has any; and (5) the value of
his own progeny, if he has any. The
farther„ back consecutively good re-
cords can .be traced the more valuable
the animal. It should always be re-
membered, however, that near an-
cestors count for a good deal more
than those more remotely related.
With a first-class bull at the head
of the herd, rapid improvement is ef-
fected by selecting and retaining
calves Ti.orn only the best mincers, at
the same time culling out those cows
whose records have not been. satisfac-
tory. This word cannot be done to
best advantage unless records are
kept of the quantity and quality of
milk from each cow for a whole lacta-
tion period.
Where all of the cows in the found-
ation stock are grades, none ofthe
calves, of course, can be registered.
It is desirable, therefore, to add to
the herd from time to time, as means
permit, some good pure-bred cows of
the same blood as the bulls that have
been rased. This has the advantage
of enabling the owner to dispose of
his calves to better advantage. -
The purchase of cows, however, is
always attended with the danger of
introdueing contagious diseases into
the herd. or this reason, the, buying
of the cows should be carried on in a,
limited way only. It is; of course, al-
ways in order to buy eows wheir the
object is to add to the herd pure-bred;
individuals of ekeeptional dairy merit
J,
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