In farm-houses where old-fashioned ways of butter-making are still followed, and the thermometer is ignored, it happens sometimes that after some hours’ churning the butter does not “come.”  The traditional remedy is then tried of introducing one or two half-crowns into the churn, partly, I think, as a kind of charm, and partly with the idea of what is called “cutting the curd.”  The remedy is certainly sometimes successful, probably the coins set up a new movement in the rotating cream, which causes an almost immediate appearance of the butter.  On the outside of the framework of the windows in some of these old places, the word “dairy” or “cheese-room” may still be seen, painted or incised.  This is a survival from the days of the window tax, and was necessary to claim the exemption which these rooms as places of business enjoyed by law.

My former tutor, the late vicar of Old Basing in Hampshire, decided to keep a cow on his glebe, and consulted the old parish clerk as to the kind of cow he would recommend.  The old man was the oracle of the village on all matters secular as well as those connected with his calling.  “Well,” he said, “what you wants is a nice pretty little cow, not a great big beast as’ll stand a-looking and a-staring at you all day long.”  The vicar followed his advice, avoided the stony regard of an unintelligent animal, and purchased a charming little tender-eyed Brittany, which was quite an ornament to his meadow.

People were very shy of American beef when first imported but, being lower in price than English it was bought by those who were willing to sacrifice quality to cheapness.  It was said that the most inferior English was sold under the name of American, the best of the American doing duty for medium quality English.  I remember seeing a very ancient and poverty-stricken cow knocked down to a Birmingham dealer, who exclaimed exultingly as the hammer fell, “I’ll make ’em some ’Merican biff in Brummagem this week.”

The neglected and overgrown hedges, now so often seen on what was formerly good wheat-growing land, have a useful side as shelter when surrounding pasture.  In the bitter winds which often occur in May, when the cattle are first turned out after a winter in the yards well littered with clean straw, they can be seen on the southern side protected from the blast.  Referring to the May blossom of the white-thorn, an old proverb says, with a faulty rhyme: 

     “May come early or May come late
     ’Tis sure to make the old cow quake.”

May Day has always been the customary date for turning out cattle to grass, but people forget that old May Day was nearly a fortnight later, which makes a great difference as to warmth and keep at that time of year.

With changes of dates and times old customs and sayings lose their force.  Under the “daylight saving” arrangement we should alter, “Rain before seven, fine before eleven,” to “Rain before eight, fine before twelve,” which spoils the rhyme.  And “Between one and two, you’ll see what the day means to do,” into, “Between two and three, you’ll see what the day means to be.”