somewhere. Sometimes the cow breaks or loosens the leg-rope and gets
her leg into the bucket and then the youth clings desperately to the
pail and hopes she'll get her hoof out again without spilling the
milk. Sometimes she does, more often she doesn't--it depends on the
strength of the boy and the pail and on the strategy of the former.
Anyway, the boy will lam the cow down with a jagged yard shovel, let
her out, and bail up another.

When he considers that he has finished milking he lets the cows out
with their calves and carries the milk down to the dairy, where he has
a heated argument with his mother, who--judging from the quantity of
milk--has reason to believe that he has slummed some of the milkers.
This he indignantly denies, telling her she knows very well the cows
are going dry.

The dairy is built of rotten box bark--though there is plenty of good
stringy-bark within easy distance--and the structure looks as if it
wants to lie down and is only prevented by three crooked props on the
leaning side; more props will soon be needed in the rear for the dairy
shows signs of going in that direction. The milk is set in dishes
made of kerosene-tins, cut in halves, which are placed on bark shelves
fitted round against the walls. The shelves are not level and the
dishes are brought to a comparatively horizontal position by means of
chips and bits of bark, inserted under the lower side. The milk is
covered by soiled sheets of old newspapers supported on sticks laid
across the dishes. This protection is necessary, because the box bark
in the roof has crumbled away and left fringed holes--also because the
fowls roost up there. Sometimes the paper sags, and the cream may
have to be scraped off an article on dairy farming.