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Quite Domesticated.

The docility and domestic habits of Cows are quite amusing sometimes. There is a venerable old pet creature in this town, who is accustomed to steal a march of the family with whom she resides and eat up the miscellaneous matter deposited in the kitchen. She occasionally walks into the back part of the house and from thence into the larder, and after seating herself on some humble stool, quietly fills her stomach with culinary matters which happen within her reach. She always has a good appetite, and never takes hot sling or early bitters to create one. The other morning it was found during the night she had eaten up what was designed for the breakfast table, a goodly mess of Codfish and potatoes; and at another time she stowed away in her bread basket a large quantity of baked pork and beans. A few days since she walked into a neighbor’s kitchen and ate up a number of fresh loaves of bread and then returned home and swallowed a quantity of butter, enough to spread them. She’s a nice beast, and yields, in the proper season, sixteen quarts of milk in a day, and withal has a touch of somnambulism about her.
Northampton Courier.

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