It is announced by telegraph from Washington that Gen. Arthur will
keep a cow at the White House during his term, to furnish milk for the
family, rather than be obliged to depend upon a milk man who is in the
habit of selling a mixed drink, though the customers, prefer to take
it-straight. There is nothing that will do more to convince people of
the true simplicity of a President than for him to keep a cow. No man
who habitually associates with a cow, and stirs up a bran mash, and
watches her plow her nose down to the bottom in search of a potato
paring, can be wholly bad. If the President selects a good, honest
cow we have no fears that he will be a tyrant in his administration of
affairs. A man is very apt to absorb many of the characteristics and
traits of the cow that he milks. If she is a good natured, honest,
law abiding cow, that “hoists” at the word of command, stands firm
and immovable while being milked, and “gives down” freely, so that the
fingers are not cramped, and she does not switch her tail in the face of
the milker, the man will be a good natured, generous, honest man, but
if the cow is one of those communists, and has to be tied to the manger,
and you have to hold one leg to keep her from kicking over the pail,
and she tries to run a horn into you, and keeps stepping around, and
her tail knocks your hat off and gets in your eyes, and your nerves are
unstrung for fear she is thinking of some deviltry to play on you, the
man whose duty it is to draw the milk from her udder will become harsh,
suspicious, cruel, tricky, and mean; and he will grind the face of the
poor.
The country will hope that Mr. Arthur, in selecting a cow, will use more
judgment than in selecting a cabinet, and will bring his great mind to
bear on the subject as though he appreciated the situation. We trust
he will not buy a cow of a democrat. There may be good cows owned by
democrats, but they are not for sale, and a democrat would sell him a
kicking cow that was farrow, just to injure his administration. Let him
go to some friend in his own party, some man who is interested in the
success of his administration, and state his case, and if possible get a
cow on trial.
This policy is wise from the fact that he could thus see if the cow was
going to hold out as a good milker. Some cows give a good mess of milk
when they first go to a new place, but in a week they let down and the
first thing you know they dry up entirely. Mr. Arthur wants to look out
for this. The country is full of bold, bad men, who would palm off a
kicking cow, or one that was not a stayer, onto their best friends.
Another thing, we would advise Mr. Arthur not to use a milking stool
with one leg, but to get one with three legs. It is undignified in any
man to stretch out on a barn floor, with a one-legged milk stool kicking
him in the pistol pocket, a pail of milk distributing itself over his
person, and a frightened cow backed up in a stall threatening to hook
his daylights out, and it would be more undignified in a President of
the United States. Get a three-legged stool, by all means, or use an
empty soap box to sit on.
If all this unsolicited but well meant advice is taken, the country will
be in no danger from Arthur's decision to keep a cow, and we shall hope
to see him on some fine morning next summer, as the sun is tinging the
eastern horizon with its ray as he slaps her on the rump with a piece of
barrel stave, or we will accept an invitation to visit his barn and show
him how to mix a bran mash that will wake to ecstacy the aforesaid cow,
and cause her milk to flow like back pay from the treasury.
When it comes to cows we deserve a cabinet position.