the ancient custom remains which, if I
remember right, used to be called bundling.
The servants receive their lovers on Saturday
nights, which is the sanctioned season for
courtship. The master and family go to bed,
and leave the key of the house with the
maids, whose lovers come to sup, and stay much
too late to admit of unusual early rising on
Sundays. So, cheesemaking is continued as on
other days, on all but the wealthiest forms.

As for the cheeses which had been pressed
enough, that is, for four days, they are stored
in the cheese-room on the opposite side of the
yard at the widow's. She took the largest
key I ever saw. The key of the Bastile,
which hangs in Washington's hall at Mount
Vernon, in Virginia, is nothing to it; and the
keyhole of the cheese-room is in the very
middle of the door. In fact, it is not a
common lock bolt that the key draws back, but a
heavy bar. The apparatus is bar and lock in
one. More presses appear along the wall of
this great upstairs room. Cheeses stand on
end as close as they can without touching.
There is a stove in the middle, and a
thermometer hangs opposite the presses. The
cheeses, which are turned and wiped very
frequently, may stand here six months, though
that seldom happens; and the temperature of
the room must be regulated in winter. The
demand is constant; and the only difference
between good and bad times is that prices and
profits are higher or lower. Every cheese
is always sold. Factors come round and buy,
chiefly to supply the Manchester and London
markets. It is a capital business. From May
to October, two cheeses per day, of near one
hundredweight each, is a great creation of
commodity. After October, the size of the
cheeses begins to dwindle; then the
number; until the spring calving of the cows,
and springing of the grass, bring round the
season of plenty again.

Much more cheese must and will be made
yet. In Ireland there is next to none, though
the Kerry hills are covered with herds of
singularly productive milch cows. Every ounce
of cheese eaten in the west of Ireland comes
from London. When the trade in cheese is
made entirely free, it will be otherwise; for
in this case, as in others, what is called
protection is mere impediment to native
industry. There is an indomitable taste for
cheese in our people; and sooner or later it
will throw off the incubus of all duty, and
enlarge the demand, according to the usual
principle and practice of free trade. The
widow need not dread such an event, either for
herself or for her young son after her. She
occupies a vantage ground by reason of the
goodness and high reputation of her cheese.
It will not be superseded by any that can come
in from abroad, or is made at home. It is
pleasant to see so much prosperity surrounding
the widow, and in the shape, not of brick
warehouses, or of iron safes at the bank—but
of green pastures, mighty haystacks, sleek
herds breathing fragrance, a little paradise of
blushing fruits, and vats of yellow cream.
May her shadow never be less!

CHIP.

BRUTE SENSE.

WHEN the tailor makes me a coat that
fits under the armpits like knives, or the
shoemaker contrives for me boots that dig
like forks into the toes, I cannot help wishing
that it were my lot to be clad without the
aid of those artificers, like the lower animals.
Why not? We have reason in our keeping,
to be sure; but do not, on that score,
hold up your chin too high over the ring of
your white collar. I have seen better white
bands about the neck of many a little bird
that twitters in the hedge by the way-side.
It is not reason that parts you from the
beast most widely, so much as your hat.
Many a dog has better head-lining than
yours, but a head-covering like that which
you clap on every day would look
ridiculous, even upon a pig. I should like to know
what furrier or paletot maker, with the clothes
of beasts given him to cut up and fashion into
clothes for men, can dress the world of fashion
half as well as the animal itself is dressed.
What Macintosh garment is so beautiful as
the waterproof dress of the salmon or the
duck? Brummel never wore a coat half as well-
fitting as a dog's. This coat fits without a crease,
and always maintains its lustre by a principle
of renovation contained in itself. It becomes
thicker and heavier when its wearer is
exposed to severe cold and needs the warmest
wrappers, and it becomes, in hot climates,
thin and very light. It maintains the temperature
of the body, and impedes the
transmission either of heat or cold from without.
It serves as a light mattress to the wearer
that enables him to lie down comfortably on
the bare ground, on stones, or upon the hardest
floor, and to resist any ordinary amount of
damp. The same dress on a female wearer
serves as a bed for her little ones to nestle
upon. A whole bird of paradise, or part
of the tail of an ostrich stuck upon a
lady's head does not impart to her dress
the lightness and beauty of a complete
set of plumage such as any bird, even a poor
linnet in Seven Dials, has for everyday wear.
Then how amazingly fit are the bird's clothes
for the bird's occupation! The direction of
every feather is calculated in birds of swift
passage to assist and expedite their flight;
and, in birds that fly stealthily by night, to
make their movements noiseless.

"But I am sure my eyes are better than a
sparrow's! " Are yon quite sure, young lady
—who would be proud to have your eyes
likened to those of the gazelle—that your eyes
are as good even as a vulture's? Some
hunters in Bengal killed a large wild boar,
and left it outside their tent. An hour
afterwards, the sky was blue and cloudless, only a