Another evening, as Joseph came home from work, Mary asked, “What in the world are you going to do with these,” as she drew from the bundle a card and brush. “Which of the family are you going to use these on?”—“Oh, I thought they would be good things to have in the house,” said Joseph, laughing. “You know I started out early this morning to go around by Mason’s, to see about repairing his house this next summer. He is one of the best of farmers, all his stock look thrifty—everything is up in order, and he makes farming pay. I found him in the stable carding and brushing his cows. That was a new idea to me, and I asked him if he thought it really paid him to spend so much time and labor on his cows. Well, said he, I’ve had the care of cattle nigh on to thirty years, and I think my carding and brushing pay as well as anything I can do, and there is nothing an animal enjoys more than having its coat combed.” “What did Mr. Mason say about the work.”—“He is going to have his house thoroughly repaired, and I am glad to say your husband has the job, and he is going to keep his eyes and ears open and learn what he can about farming.” Joseph had bought a load of fine hay a farmer was taking into town to market, and “Comfort” was now fed hay three times a day, with two quarts of bran night and morning. At noon there was something from the house also, like potato and apple peelings, small potatoes, wilted turnips or beets, cut up cabbage leaves, etc. The children thought it nice fun to feed her at noon. Some loose bars had been put up to her stall which was quite roomy, and she did not have to be driven into it by some of the men and all of the boys in the neighborhood, but when the gate of the yard was opened she walked briskly to her stall, knowing she would find a good supper waiting for her. Humane care, the plenty of food and drink, given regularly, have wrought in a month’s time a great change in the appearance of “Comfort.” From being a poorly fed “whipped” cow in a dairy, suffering all the discomfort of stanchions for eighteen out of twenty-four hours, with no bed but a bare floor—she has come to be a thrifty, happy animal, giving good promise of rewarding her owners well for their care. One morning the first week in April, Joseph came in from the barn looking pleased, but a little anxious. “Children,” he said, “what do you think I found at the barn this morning?”—“Oh, a bossy,” they said, delighted with the idea.—“Yes, ‘Comfort’ has a little ‘comfort,’ and she is very proud of it; but now comes the rub, who is to milk, and what is to be done with the calf?”—“Oh,” said Mary, “I guess I have not quite forgotten how to milk yet, and you can soon learn—‘never too old to learn,’ you know. I will go out after breakfast and milk out what the calf does not take, and you can go around by Mr. Mason’s and ask him what we had better do with the calf.” Joseph felt these were good suggestions,