hen the well is deep. If the water be low or out of
condition, it is fetched in yokes from the nearest running stream. The
acid or "eating" power of the buttermilk, &c., may be noted in the
stones, which in many places are scooped or hollowed out. A portion of
the court is roofed in, and is called the "skilling." It is merely
covered in without walls, the roof supported upon oaken posts. Under
this the buckets are placed to dry after being cleaned, and here the
churn may often be seen. A separate staircase, rising from the dairy,
gives access to the cheese-loft. It is an immense apartment, reaching
from one end of the house to the other, and as lofty as the roof will
permit, for it is not ceiled. The windows are like those of the dairy.
Down the centre are long double shelves sustained upon strong upright
beams, tier upon tier from the floor as high as the arms can
conveniently reach. Upon these shelves the cheese is stored, each lying
upon its side; and, as no two cheeses are placed one upon the other
until quite ready for eating, a ton or two occupies a considerable
space while in process of drying. They are also placed in rows upon the
floor, which is made exceptionally strong, and supported upon great
beams to bear the weight. The scales used to be hung from a beam
overhead, and consisted of an iron bar, at each end of which a square
board was slung with ropes--one board to pile up the cheese on, and the
other for the counterpoise of weights. These rude and primitive scales
are now generally superseded by modern and more accurate instruments,
weighing to a much smaller fraction. Stone half-hundredweights and stone
quarters were in common use not long since. A cheese-loft, when full, is
a noble sight of its kind, and represents no little labour and skill.
When sold, the cheese is carefully packed in the cart with straw to
prevent its being injured. The oil or grease from the cheese gradually
works its way into the shelves and floor, and even into the staircase,
till the woodwork seems saturated with it. Rats and mice are the pests
of the loft; and so great is their passion for cheese that neither cats,
traps, nor poison can wholly repress these invaders, against whom
unceasing war is waged. The starlings--who, if the roof be of thatch,
as it is in many farmhouses, make their nests in it--occasionally carry
their holes right through, and are unmercifully exterminated when they
venture within reach, or they would quickly