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The Poor Man's Cow.

Amongst all the animals useful to man the cow stands prominently forward. It is of the greatest importance to him, both as a dairy animal, a butcher's animal, for its hide, horns, bones, and what not besides, but for the present I wish only to consider the question with reference to one species Of the family, and that is, the " poor man's cow." Ido not even wish to dwell upon the herd of the smaller farmer, although many a settler might be brought unfortunately under the head of a poor enough man in these times. I deal only with the cofc of a working man who maintains his wife and family upon his wages. To a man in such a position a good milch cow, with pasturage to feed her, is about as great a blessing as can well be conceived. The amount of benefit derived from such a source could hardly be over-estimated when oue comes to consider the subject from o\ cry point of view. Nor 5s the benefit con lined to himself and hie family, but extends to his neighbourhood, and the country in which he Jives. Where the agiieultural labourer has the privilege of running his cow on a common, he can afford to keep hLs fj.mil}* on wage* which a fcimer U able to give, and with a gai-den, a flock of geese, ducks, etc., he not only can live more ihdepod ently, and ieel that even when lie is. out of work something is kft, bnt ho i- sootc-J to the soil. He has an interest an. l a stake, however small, in the district, and, per consequence, a certain feeling of self lospect and of patriotism. In time of haukhip lie is not driven to seek relief, nor to t4and at street corners swelling the ranks of the unemployed, and demanding Government employment at a rate of wages which, owing to every mouthful of food having to be purchased at the chop, must be con^i lerable to maintain his family even in necevs.uies. It would be well if the Government of a new colony like thi?, where land i? <>.- yet cheap and obtainable, weie to make piovision of this kind for the rural labourer, always; of course under proper legulations. Whilst here in Kew Zealand w c aie nei^ecting these matters, at home in England there is a tendency to do away v.ith «vine o{ tho^e privileges of the p-.or man, and it is mauily owing to the ad\ance of the thru <-, the idea of turning to better account even thing that can be utilised. It ia all very v.ell to make an acre of common produce yore money per annum by impro\ed husbandry, but the question follow ■>, what is to be done w ith the money? Impiove away as much a- you like, but do not rob the poor. Those amongst us who can look back beyond half-a-ceutury can Fee many imp.ovement© which render life easier and add ro the comfort of living. Good road*, railways, sea going steamboats, etc., save much toil and hardship in travelling, but even the&e have their drawbacks; for with the evils we lose many a pleasant recollection of the old coach, the charming scenery, and ever varying incident of the road, the pictm esquo old roadside inn, the herds of deer in gentlemen's parks, and all the pleasures of the old health giving style of travelling .«o well portrayed by the pen of a Dickens ; but I cannot stay now to dwell upon old memories of this sort, for amongst other improved institutions we have agiicultuial journals, of which The Ntw Zealand Farmeu, Bee ajtd Poai/r.RV Journal is one of the leading, and its ideas are practical, so we must confine ourselves to the poor man's cow. and to its proper local, the "poor man's common," the heaths, moors, and commons of England. Whothatha? lived fifty orsixty years ago has forgotten them ? A \ illage in thoae days was not complete without it-. "green," where the children played, the young men and maidens danced^ and to which the old wanderer returned in his age to fight his battles o'er again, with his contemporaries for eager listeners It is the recollection of the village green and the village common, that makes the patriot, and if no such institutions exist in jSTcw Zealand we will soon have to seek for the meaning of puch a word in the dictionary. Near large cities, such as emoky Leeds, their Woodhonfe Moor, in Leith their Links, in Perth their Inches, and even in great. London their Hampstead Heath, Blackheath Moor, Wormwood Scrubs, etc., will hardly be done away with, because they are the health-giving recreation grounds of a dense population, but in the more thinly populated and purely rural districts the value of commonage and the poor man's ftow 13 noi so greatly appreciated as it ought to be. Some of these places are amongst the most picturesque spots in the old country, and probably have afforded tiore plea&ure, and perhap3 some profit 100, in proportion, to the stranger and the poor than the magnificent estates Of the rich ever did to their fortunate possessors. When the poor man walks on the common ho feels a kind of ownership. He is not trespassing, he has a right to be there, and enjoy himself, and his hor.se or his cow can feed there. He feels that after all there is some part of this world that, in a kind of a way, belongs to him, and where he can be free. If the Government of this colony would only provide plenty of commonage for the poor they would do a wise thing in many ways. At first these places would no doubt be of comparatively little value. They would be only patches of uninteresting brown fern, but such would not always be the case ; time would enrich their pasturage, and trees would grow up and beautify them. At ptesont peihap-* there is not the same class of poor people here that we find, or found at home (fortunately so), but the time will come, when the country is more thickly populated, and when commons, where every p-)o.- man ■can feed his cow, will be a very great blessing. These wastes, too, weie the delight of visitors to the country, a- t'icy could enjoy themselves theie without die ad of being found fault with, and many a city invalid returned from thr-L- bt.'e/v atmosphere with renewed health. Well do many of us remember their Miorh gice->, sweet grasses, their magnificent floweung gorse. with its lich clusters of yellow flowers and delicious p-ifume, the old gravel pits with their little ponds where we caught the water "effete"' and minnow?, the startled rabbits, and hurrying leathered game, the tinker's donkey, the gipsy camp, with the slung kettle, and the smoky tents, and the old gipsy woman with her scarlet cloak. vTes, and the little b,ne footed boy tending that obsolete animal with its long unshapely horns, its angular form, setting at defiance all the i ules ol Stud Associations, but nevertheless with •a great udder of milk, —the poor man's, •cow, the best friend a poor man's iamity ever was blessed with. The writer hag even now in this very room the remains oi his first entomological collection captured more than fifty years ago on such places through England and Scotland. My •Silvered Fritillera, small heath butterfly, white letter streak, orange tip, speckled •wood, brown meadow, brimstone, tortoiseshell, blue Argus, &c., are all memento* •of the heaths and commons of England.

„' ,7 „ pjT Unfortunarely for all* parties, in some districts, many oi these lands were oi riclf soiA, and, paying lain, idle ipv laundreSs oi years, promised,, a "i'ich return for labour, and people. Jbegari to look, upon them with greedy , eyep. . If; yas. [argjiied , how, much 1 could ibe gained by tljeij- being put fc'6 more* profitable account,, and thai?, the money sc obtained could Be used to benefit the poorer classes to a greater extent.' The idea oi enclosing and cultivating R,uch places is a mistake. Struggling families do not want the workhouse nor the relieving officer, un less, indeed, on unusual occasions, and foi a time. What they require is. not charity, bnt help—help, to get their own living, helc to make their lot easier, without fhat feef ing of degradation which is inseparable fiom any kind of charity ; the advantages derived from the exercise of a privilege to which they feel they have a legal and a natural right. The flock of geose and ducks, and the cow, were a very groat blessing te many a family who lived near a common, and instead of enclosing such places, if the Govern mehtwere to cut down the- furze, etc., work and lay down the land to good grass, and improve it, leaving it, open for the poor, and placing it under the caie of wardens so as to prevent those richer persons who were avaricious from using what never was intended for them, and otherwiso making such rules as would benefit the cottagers, ' they would bo doing a great deal of good, and I have oiten thought that if 'good common pasturage, to a rensonable extent, could be pro\icJnd in Ireland, aucl the pooi man could be helped to a good cow, and protected in its possession against repacious landlords and other extor-tioni-ts, it would do more for the country than all the Homo Rule* that ever m ere invented. Potatoes may keep people from actual -Kant, but a good bowl of milk is a tine addition to it, and it is a long way more palatable than any possible form oi government to a hungry man. Whatever the agricultural condition of Ireland may be now at the present time ceitiinly in IS-W (the year of the potato disease, when the water was last thioughthe country), there was plenty of laud doing very little good to ?ny one, and which would be ea^y enough to cultivate for such purposes. The first duty of a country and a Government is most certainly to pro\ ide proper means for its inhabitant- to procure food, and talk to them about abiding by the laws afterwards, for it is hard to expect law and Older where there is nothing to eat. If any one will take the trouble to ascertain, he will find that the inhabitants oJ countries where theie is a considerable amount of pasturage available as a common are of a hetter class, and more patiioile. than where every inch of land is apuropii ated and shut off by fences, and where in consequence the poor man has nothing to depend upon but his bare wages. In fcfwitzei land tho peasantry have generally vei y small freehold properties, but they make the best use or them. The valleys are rich and warm in summer, and their gardenand fruit are cultivated with the gieale=t care and industry, where ccists a gieit | deal of feeling amongst the inhabi--ants. Owing to the presence of so much snow on the mountains, the winter*, (even in the»e sheltered valleys) are very severe. The UMial jjtyle of a hour-e is one with a ground floor of stone and a supeistrucuuo ■of wood. The lower story is it- ed to keep the rows in during the wmier, thc\urandah is made very wide all mound the house, | and fodder, etc ,is stoied undei- it in winter which al&o tends to k-jen the building warmer. Jn most famine-* th»y piaciico either some branch of watchmaking or toy manufacture dm ing the long v. inter montii-, and when early spang corae- the co\\ s aie 'ec out into the jwidoeks, on the !>>w ci -lope■•>t tho hiil=s, till ilie weather ■• a<"iii, ■-. ht'ii they are driven to their -.pui'ikm l pastures lar up the mountain.-, and cci uini member of eieh umil. aio cho.-eu to iccompany them fiiere are pLnfy oi voluitreis foi t ii- enii,e, v, im.li t:-i»-t!l> all- to the you. i^ j_ l l l ■= . Tuu upland )i<m-c-or hut?) au; vdkd "uiJas, ' ,tmi z m >ccupation ioliowe-i the e1- clioo-aj-ui^. ii'cr •ud pic-er\ing milk, which occupies uu-'l n their time, b'lb the young- people cm ilway-> Und lei-ure for amusement and the ociecy oi thea- iiionds amongst the hepheuU a'ld chamois jhuntei*, and the ojouin in the line healrhy height 5 ? i-. a ,>lea-ant one, tube looked ioiaaid to all .ne letit ot the \ear. The A. pine air i^ (jure, jyul thu Alpine gra-s u &ueel, und tl.o -s\\it.- milk amount the best. As ior tins cheese, iv is an acjui . ed ta-te ;to the uneducated palate it is ationg, and has' so ollensive a Miitll, tliat at hotels they u-c aglasi cover o\er the plate it is served to taolt; on. However its laanufuoluie is a proiitablo oecup-ition to the mountain peasant. In Holland al<o the cow- aie confined in the lower pa;t of the hou-se duiing theii severe umtei, and tnrnua out into cue fields in spring, but in Holland there aie no bree/,y mountain^ no commonage, no laughing mciry-he.iitoJ. tenders o? the raifivy heul. The land i~> as ilat a.- a sheet of paper, and the peasant has only his slvaie ot the road; the gia^o ia the lichest peihaps in Uiw wuikl, anu ao aie the milk, the bu'uter, and the cheese, but alas Hhe poor man is a Milieu boor. 1 don't wish to abu-e the Dutch, they aie honest and scrupulously clean, and iudu&tiious enough, but they arc heavy and lumpish, and even in their play uncouth, and you cannot fail to pee ifc. Then again tako Sweden, and you will find yourself amongst a pleasanter people The poor man there has his cow and hib common, only in thi^ ca^o tho common iq mostly timber land with glades and the cow r s Iced greatly on the leaves of tiees and shrubs. They aie an amiable, pleasant people, and very patriotic. The cowss oonstitute their principal wealth, and they tend them with the gieatest care. As th s country is perhaps not quite so well understood as some others perhaps I might awell give a short account of the management of the dairy, e\ en if I do dwell a litfclo more fully upon their peculiar and interesting methods. Here also the cows are shut up in houses aH the winter, w Inch i& long and very severe, and it is, not till the middle of May that they can be allowed' to go abroad, and then only into certain fenced in paddocks immediately around the house, during the day, and returned to shelter at nighl. By the time that pasture is used up, the warm summer has begun and they are driven into the higher foiests, to browse the young leaves and shoots, and the grass in the little forest glades. Every village ha « its common {setter they call it) which is generally many square miles in extent, and it is always cleared in patches to afford sheltered glades of grass. In theso foiests every cottager has his log hut; {sltu/a) to which some member of his family resorts with his cows in summer, but the climate is »o cold that this, seldom takes place before the middle of June The peasants; are very superstitious and'belieye in all kinds of wood spirits and forest demons, and before starting on the journey every animal has a large cross, either in tar or black paint, put on it, pot {^5 a brand of ownership but 'to prevent the forest demons from tearing it to pieces. The ceremony is peculiar ; a bough of the mountain ash (or rowau tree) is first struck upon the place to be marked, and if theanimal has not been christened before, it is now named, otherwise it must not venture into the forests. The names usually, employed are such as "Rose," " Gem," " Ladybird*' " Snowdrop, "'" Welcome"etc. .The bell is th/Qn-hung round

the neck of'the'oldest cow in ttie Herd/ as {t 'matter 'of rrgKtT And thCparty Ktart' v ofif,ion *t lease one dayj inoVin'g slowly on, feeding by the way. It is r the place of young girl's fj totake pharge of the cows,either.the daughters' of the poorer cottagers "or the hired girls ,oi larger farmers. The girls carry meal with r which -they occasionally feed the leading' cows, which follow them. ' As idleness is a thing they do not go in for, the knitting needles are at work all the time. Once arrived at the stuga or hut, the girls settle down to the business of butter and' cheese making. The oattlo are perfectly bame, coming when called and never giving any trpuble in that, respect, a^id any spare time the girls have is employed, if the weather be ,fine, in collecting grass, and shoots of trees, which they store for Avinter use, and 'if 1 wet in laying by a stock of knitted work. The people arc' always cheerful and happy, and their charges aie a pleasure to them. Later 'on they are joined by the young mcii, and indeed by all H'ho can be sparod, often in entire families, who do not however intrude, into the due/a, but pitch tents for themselves, and whose occupation is to gather in fodder for vi inter use. These free and easy days in the forest are the happio&t in their lives ; hunting the game, the meal round the open tire, the song, and the dance, under the gieen boughs of the summer forest, compensate to those poor psople for all the hardships of their long and .severe winters, and constitute the happinesof their innocent lives. If the thing were only closely looked into one would find that the theory is right; it is not wealth that makes the rich man happy, nor is it high wages that makes the poor man independent} rather indeed the reverse. It is the possession of a little something oi his ,o\vn, that will keep him, and which does not depend upon the caprice of an employer or the chances of employment. J must now leave tho old countries and bring my poor man's cow^' 1 out here and consider" it from a practical, colonial point of view, but that must bo nexi* month. Komata,

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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/TAN18861127.2.39.1

Bibliographic details

Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 180, 27 November 1886, Page 4

Word Count
3,060

The Poor Man's Cow. Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 180, 27 November 1886, Page 4

The Poor Man's Cow. Te Aroha News, Volume IV, Issue 180, 27 November 1886, Page 4

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