s firm
and immovable while being milked, and "gives down" freely, so that the
fingers are not cramped, and she does not switch her tail in the face of
the milker, the man will be a good natured, generous, honest man, but
if the cow is one of those communists, and has to be tied to the manger,
and you have to hold one leg to keep her from kicking over the pail,
and she tries to run a horn into you, and keeps stepping around, and
her tail knocks your hat off and gets in your eyes, and your nerves are
unstrung for fear she is thinking of some deviltry to play on you, the
man whose duty it is to draw the milk from her udder will become harsh,
suspicious, cruel, tricky, and mean; and he will grind the face of the
poor.

The country will hope that Mr. Arthur, in selecting a cow, will use more
judgment than in selecting a cabinet, and will bring his great mind to
bear on the subject as though he appreciated the situation. We trust
he will not buy a cow of a democrat. There may be good cows owned by
democrats, but they are not for sale, and a democrat would sell him a
kicking cow that was farrow, just to injure his administration. Let him
go to some friend in his own party, some man who is interested in the
success of his administration, and state his case, and if possible get a
cow on trial.

This policy is wise from the fact that he could thus see if the cow was
going to hold out as a good milker. Some cows give a good mess of milk
when they first go to a new place, but in a week they let down and the
first thing you know they dry up entirely. Mr. Arthur wants to look out
for this. The country is full of bold, bad men, who would palm off a
kicking cow, or one that was not a stayer, onto their best friends.

Another thing, we would advise Mr. Arthur not to use a milking stool
with one leg, but to get one with three legs. It is undignified in any
man to stretch out on a barn floor, with a one-legged milk stool kicking
him in the pistol pocket, a pail of milk distributing itself over his
person, and a frightened cow backed up in a stall threatening to hook
his daylights out, and it would be more undignified in a President of
the United States. Get a three-legged stool, by all means, or use an
empty soap box to sit on.

If all this unsolicited but well meant advice is taken, the country will
be in no danger from Arthur's decision to keep a cow, and we shall hope
to see him on some fine morning next summer, as the sun is tingi