We do not eat negroes, although their pigmented skins, flat feet, and woolly heads proclaim them a different species; even monkey's flesh is abhorrent to us, merely because we fancy that that creature in its ugliness resembles some old men and some women and children that we know.

But the gentle large-brained social cow that caresses our hands and faces with her rough blue tongue, and is more like man's sister than any other non-human being--the majestic, beautiful creature with the juno eyes, sweeter of breath than the rosiest virgin--we slaughter and feed on her flesh--monsters and cannibals that we are! But though cannibals, it is very pleasant to find that many cowmen love their cows.

Walking one afternoon by a high unkept hedge near Southampton Water, I heard loud shouts at intervals issuing from a point some distance ahead, and on arriving at the spot found an old man leaning idly over a gate, apparently concerned about nothing.

"What are you shouting about ?" I demanded.

"Cows," he answered, with a glance across the wide green field dotted with a few big furze and bramble bushes.