Jovial Farmers
To mark the occasion of my birthday we made a journey of about twenty miles to have dinner at a little inn well-known for its cater- ing and found the company at the adjoining table a jovial gathering of farmers and their wives. Old William Cobbett, had he been there, would surely have joined in the dis- cussion on farming prices and economics, but although I heard one remark about the dismal trend of things in egg production, the con- versation was lively and punctuated by laughter. " Ah," said one, a red-faced• man from Shropshire, " I wouldn't buy a bull. It's a bad thing to start buying bulls. You see a good beast at four hundred. You buy it, have it a while until you go to the sale again. You get one two-three hundred pounds dearer. A better bull must be two- three hundred more. Next thing you're thinking about a bull at a thousand guineas, There's no end to it. I wouldn't mind selling a good bull, but I wouldn't buy one 1" His friends were amused at this attitude, and I smiled at the thought of a farmer regarding the possession of a bull in the same way that some men consider the buying or selling of a car.
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