Baltimore daily commercial. [volume] (Baltimore, Md.) 1865-1867, 1866-06-01
DAILY COMMERCIAL.
BALTIM RE, MD.
Rounds With A hVet."
From Chambers Journal
GCOncIudad

| From Chambers Journal
[Concludedl
could not help fancying that his voice
resembled that OF poor Robson, when he used
TO play in pathetic dramas; but there was real
trouble IN this mans quivering Tone and a
| real ruined home at the back of the scepa
with a trembling hand he pointed silently TO a
heId about quarter of mile distant. where
q huge letter l was described by the arrange
ment OF forty great mounds. In the graves
under those mounds lay forty animals, and
| buried with them the thrift and industry of
| forty years of the farmers life. Newspapers
| give ''graphic accounts, u no doubt, but had
never realized the cattle-plague until then.
! looked out over the felds-perhaps somewhat
longer than necessary-in order to give the
| farmer an opportunity of steadying his voice;
| and glancing at the Government Inspector, |
detected him fitting his hat little more out of
| the perpendicular than usual in an uneasy
| fidgety way. One COW was dying in an isolated
| shed in the yard. We went to look at her
| passing more of the empty stalls that gave so
| emil an aspect to the place. the poor beast
! lay PROSTATE, her tanks heaving, her protuber-
ant bones scarcely covered with skin, and her
| RIBS raised with horrible distinctness above her
| fallen and almost feshless Sides She was in
| pltabe state, and had lain thus for MANY
| days, until she became covered with sores
| The former inspector, CARVING out some
| absurd notions Of his own, had said that she
| need not be destroyed; and so the wretched
animal had been inhumanly left to- terrible
| lingering DEATH Some young farm laborers
| standing round were trying to induce her to
| eat, anXiously watching her, though hope was
| gone, for she had been the pride of the dairy.
| My companion after examining the COW, with
| an expression of concern on his face that a
| London physician might have coveted, turned
| to the farmer and said, as gently as he could:
| 81 am afraid she must be killed; it is i'm
| possible for her to recover"
The poor man sorrowfully nodded assent.
Here said L., (Which of you fellows
| will do twill you?" he inquired of one of
| the laborers near.
The lad shook his head.
''NOo,n replied he ''oi Gonna do thot, =" with
tone meant to convey that he usually was
ready for any amount of slaughter, but on this
| occasion he was not i the vein.
| Here, will your said the inspector, turn
ing to another Of them but he only received
| the same answer. damn it them said the
| inspector, ''fetch me an axe" / confess |
| have never looked upon the expletive damn
| IT with the proper amount of right-minded
| horror, and have always, am ashamed to
say, secretly admired the many delicate shades
| OF infection the pronunciation Of it is capable
| OF receiving. On this occasion there was such
a world OF kindly sympathy expressed in the
| tone IN which it was uttered. that the recording
| angel might have mistaken the vague curse for
blessing, and never have even entered it in
| his volume. They brought a clumsy, heavy
hatchet, and gave it to my friend. He sprang
| over the rail that fenced in the shed, asking
\ me to draw the dying cows head forward to
| receive the blow. | did so, mot feeling at all
| like butcher), and in another moment the
| young doctor had eased his patient sufferings
Tor ever. We fetched cart-horse, and placed
a chain round the dead animal neck, in order
that 1t might be dragged away to add to the
| size of the monster L. There was positively
bare path worn across the meadow, by the
| number of bodies drawn down it for burial.
The horse, mournfully fulfilling his novel
Duties slowly moved off. "The best mich
cow | ever had!i the old man sadly said, as
| his fayorite-dead, and oh! so wretched-
looking, with strained neck, and glazed eye
passed at his feet. | remembered another
funeral oration-one had learned at school
| of far more grandiloquent character; com
| parison seemed grotesque, but the ruined
| farmers parting eulogium touched me far
| more nearly than the elaborate speech of one
Marcus Antonius had ever been able to do.
| 1t was very painful scene: the deserted
yard, the vacant sheds, the silent dairy, and
! hstless unoccupied herdsmen, composed a
saddening picture, which might have been
1 aptly entitled ''Trouble" Expressing our
| sorrow for the misfortunes that had befallen
| him, and mentioning the compensation he
| would receive for the last animal he had lost
| Ia sum that would scarcely pay the expense
| of digging that terrible T), we took leave of
| the poor farmer; but the hospitality of his
| class struggled through his grief, and he in
sisted on procuring for US a goblet Of home
| made wine before our departure. We then
| visited another farm, and another all had
| been attacked by the plague, and all had
| suffered severely: at alive beheld the wretched
| desolation this awful murrain had caused. AT
| one alone the tenant had been fortunate; he
had died on the day the plague commenced.
The farmers received us well, and were ready
to listen to and accept any advice my friend
offered them as to precautionary measures they
should take whereby future infection might be
prevented. But all their capital had been
| invested in cattle, all their cattle had been
destroyed, and very dark future opening
before them, they all seemed overwhelmed and
| paralyzed; though, as far as | could observe,
they were patient and accomplishing enough
and this not because they had no blame to lay
on fellowmen, for grievouS injuries have been
| in many instances inflicted on them. Tales
| of atrOcity are already limited at ; and in years
to come, when the story of the murrain is told
in the chimney-corner of homesteads, they will
be remembered and related.
1t was late when we drove homewards /
was not so much inclined for conversation as
when we set out, and my companions flow of
anecdote had somewhat abated. He had not
previously seen the phase in the cattle plague
we had then witnessed. The infected farms
he had visited in his own district were either
held by wealthy amateurs, who, after trying
| expensive experiments, and losing all their
stock, declared with disgust that they would
"give up farming; - or else by men who could
turn for consolation to well-flled stackyards,
and determine to buy no more cattle until the
disease had subsidized. But to these poor
farmers the cara boum was no mere gentle
manly pastime, nor had they bursting barns"
to comfort them.
Unlike the man who claimed to be an
authority on the theory of projectiles, because
his leg had been carried away by cannon
ball, | do not pretend to have gained any
knowledge of the cattle-plague because | have
seen its effects, but [ have gained knowledge
of the ruin an epidemic may cause; and l
would rathernothear any more bad conundrums