"She will be tame to-morrow morning, depend upon it," said he.
"But if you give her nothing to eat, will not the calf die?"
"Oh no, I should think not. I shall not starve her, but I will make her thankful for her food before she gets it. I shall cut her some grass to-morrow morning."
We may as well here say, that the next morning Humphrey went in to the heifer. At first she tossed about, and was very unruly. He gave her some grass, and patted her and coaxed her for a long while, till at last she allowed him to touch her gently. Every day for a fortnight he brought her food, and she became quieter every day, till at last if he went up to her, she never pushed with her horns. The calf became quite tame, and as the heifer perceived that the calf was quiet, she became more quiet herself. After the fortnight, Humphrey would not allow the heifer to receive any thing except from the hand of Alice, that the animal might know her well; and when the calf was a month old, Humphrey made the first attempt to milk her. This was resisted at first by kicking, but in the course of ten days she gave down her milk. Humphrey then let her loose for a few days to run about the yard, still keeping the calf in the cow-house, and putting the heifer in to her at night, milking her before the calf was allowed to suck. After this he adventured upon the last experiment, which was to turn her out of the yard to graze in the forest. She went away to some distance, and he was fearful that she would join the herd, but in the evening she came back again to her calf. After this he was satisfied, and turned her out every day, and they had no further trouble with her. He would not, however, wean the calf till the winter time, when she was shut up in the yard and fed on hay. He then weaned the calf, which was a cow calf, and they had no more trouble with the mother. Alice soon learned to milk her, and she became very tractable and good-tempered. Such was the commencement of the dairy at the cottage.
"Jacob," said Humphrey, "when do you go to Lymington again?"
"Why, I do not know. The end of August, as it is now, and the month of September, is not good for venison; and, therefore, I do not see what I shall have to go for."
"Well, I wish when you do go, you would get something for Alice and something for me."
"And what is it that Alice wants?"
"She wants a kitten."
"Well, I think I may find that. And what do you want, Humphrey?"