I had no stable. The cow stood out in all the storms until late in December. The hair grew very thick, almost like a buffalo robe, and she did not seem to mind the cold. There was an old chicken house on the place, standing on posts about five feet high. It was in a hollow, and was sheltered by evergreens on the north and west. As I pulled up her stake one night in a drizzle to let her go under the tree where I milked her, she started on the gallop for this house, and from that time it was her winter couch. There I milked and fed her. I tied the chain around one of the corner posts, so as to leave her the choice of the shelter of the building or of exposure to the storm at her discretion, and I must say that she often surprised me by seeming as fond as a child of standing out in the rain. Under this coop I fed her fodder; the stalks she left, littered down her bed, and I had more manure in the spring than I had ever had before. A boy spread it from a wheelbarrow at twenty-five cents a day. The spring before I paid fifty cents a load for the manure, and two dollars and fifty cents a day for the hauling. ABOUT SALTING. I never fed the cow any salt for health during the summer, but she kept healthy, and the butter came. In the fall, I began feeding her the house slops, night and morning, and when she did not eat them freely I put a little salt in. When I thought she was not eating her fodder up clean enough, I would sprinkle on a little brine with an old broom. I never fed salt for her good, but sometimes for mine. In the fall, when I wanted her to eat up weeds before they went to seed, I used occasionally to sprinkle with brine such spots as I wanted eaten off closely. I never could make my old lawn-mower cut off weeds any closer than grass, but this new lawn-mower would eat these weed patches to the collars of the roots. My cow became used to this kind of life, makes me no trouble, has furnished the milk and butter for our family of four the whole year, and some butter to send to my friends, and a little to sell. I have fodder enough from my quarter acre to keep her until grass is abundant, and have one dollar and twenty cents of the price of my calf still on hand.