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189 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1963
Inside the barn we were swallowed up by a beamed cavern, inhabited by rows upon rows of drowsy animals. These stables were well-cleaned and freshly lined each day. They had an odor that will always be nostalgic to me. Faintly acrid, of course, but mingled too with the fragrance of clover hay, the sour tang of silage, the astringent dust of lime, and the warm good smell of the cows themselves.
Hanging their lanterns on convenient pegs, my uncle and my cousins took hayforks and distributed the morning feeding to the cows. Then, sitting on three-legged milk stools with their mail pails firmly clasped between their knees, they began sending rhythmic and ringing streams of milk into the buckets. It is a soul-satisfying sound, soothing to cows and milkers.