hat I am on the subject, it may be asked what is the best paying
breed for the dairy. My opinion is divided between the south down and the
cochin china. Some like one the best and some the other, but as for me,
give me liberty or give me death.

There are many reforms that should be inaugurated in the manufacture of
cheese. Why should cheese be made round? I am inclined to the belief that
the making of cheese round is a superstition. Who had not rather buy a
good square piece of cheese, than a wedge-shaped chunk, all rind at one
end, and as thin as a Congressman's excuse for voting back pay at the
other? Make your cheese square and the consumer will rise up and call you
another.

Another reform that might be inaugurated would be to veneer the cheese
with building paper or clapboards, instead of the time-honored piece of
towel. I never saw cheese cut that I didn't think that the cloth around it
had seen service as a bandage on some other patient. But I may have been
wrong. Another thing that does not seem to be right, is to see so many
holes in cheese. It seems to me that solid cheese, one made by one of the
old masters, with no holes in it--I do not accuse you of cheating, but
don't you feel a little ashamed when you see a cheese cut, and the holes
are the biggest part of it? The little cells may be handy for the skipper,
but the consumer feels the fraud in his innermost soul.

Among the improvements made in the manufacture of cheese I must not forget
that of late years the cheese does not resemble the grindstone as much as
it did years ago. The time has been when, if the farmer could not
find his grindstone, all he had to do was to mortise a hole in the middle
of a cheese, and turn it and grind his scythe. Before the invention of
nitro-glycerine, it was a good day's work to hew off cheese enough for a
meal. Time has worked wonders in cheese.

SELLING CLAMS.

At the concert Wednesday night, the last piece sung was a trio, by Marie
Rose, Brignoli, and Carleton. The men stood on each side of the girl and
began to jaw at her. It was in some other language, and we could only
understand by the motion of their mouths and their actions. It seemed as
though the men were trying to sell clams to her. First Brignoli began to
whoop it up, and describe the clams he had to sell, and tried to get her
to invest. He yelled at her, and seemed really put out, and she was as
spunky as any girl we ever saw. When Brignoli got out of br