and he went up the path, through the panelled corridor that led through the house, into the court, passed under the arch at the opposite side, and so into the farmyard.  There the cows were gathering for the milking, swinging slowly into the yard while John-James held open the gate from the field.  They were good cows, but Ishmael glanced at them critically.  Cows were to be his chief concern, for the home farm was not large enough to yield much in the way of crops for sale—­nearly all would be needed for the winter consumption of his own beasts.  Most of the corn sown was the dredge-corn, a mingling of barley and oats sown together and ground together, which was used for cattle, and the roots and hay were all needed also.  Even then there would have to be special foods bought, Ishmael decided, for he believed in farmyard manure, and to obtain that at its best the cattle had to be well and carefully fed.  These cows he now saw were good enough of their kind, but he wished to start Guernseys or Jerseys, or more probably a cross-breed of the two, as being fitter for the bare country than pure-bred animals.

John-James tramped in behind the last cow and closed the gate.  He had made no remark at sight of Ishmael, and all he now said was: 

“Them are good cows.  Good as any you’ll get up-country I reckon.”

“They look all right for their kind,” admitted Ishmael.

“Finest in the place.  Not like Johnny Angwin’s beasts—­high in the bone and low in the flesh.  He’m a soft kind o’ chap, sure ’nough, and sick to his heart at having to take to farming toall.  He was in a book-shop to Truro, but had to come home when his brother died.  T’other day he come to I and he says, ’Oh, John-James Beggoe, my dear, what shall I do?  I forgot I did ought to arrange my cows all in steps, so to speak, so that they shouldn’t all calve to wance, and now they’ll all be a doen of it and us won’t get no milk....’” John-James broke off with a chuckle, then resumed with:  “Seen the calves yet?”

“No.  I suppose they’ve been turned out?”

“Not yet.  I’ll wait till the middle of the month before turnen out.  Eight heifers and three bulls there be.”

“Well, I’ll see what they look like.  Morning, Katie!”

Katie Jacka, who had come out to the milking, responded eagerly to the new master and planked down stool and pails.  Ishmael and John-James stood watching for a few minutes.

“That there cow is drawin’ to calf, and I’m jealous of her,” announced John-James lugubriously; “she’m too fat, and I fear she’ll get bruised, but though I turned her into the poorest field in the place she won’t go no thinner.  She’m never gone dry, and they belongs to be one month dry.”

“I want to start Jerseys,” said Ishmael boldly; “I’m sure the better quality of the milk will more than make up for the greater cost of the stock.”

“Jerseys! ... well,” said John-James, startled, “that’s a new idea, surely.  I don’t knaw where ’ee’d get a bull to serve en.  Hav’ee thought on that?”