These had to be put in the mouths of the cows by main strength, and held there till from force of habit the animal began chewing, swallowing and "raising" again.
What was stranger, this unnatural appetite for gnawing bark was not confined wholly to cows that fall; the shoats out in the orchard took to gnawing apple-trees, and spoiled several valuable Sweetings and Gravensteins before the damage was discovered.

It was an "off year." Every living thing seemed to require a tonic.
The bitter milk proved the most difficult problem.

No bitter weed or foul grass grew in the pasture.

The herd had grazed there for years; nothing of the sort had been noticed before.
The village apothecary, who styled himself a chemist, was asked to give an opinion on a specimen of the cream; but he failed to throw much light on the subject.

"There seems to be tannic acid in this milk," he said.
At about that time uncle Solon Chase came along one afternoon, and gave one of his harangues at our schoolhouse.