shirts fluttering from the stays; and the deck was manned to receive the new Commander and his guests, and the little old man in gray was sufficiently impressed with the dignity and importance of "Baby Tom."

During their stay on board and their peregrinations on shore these two old veterans saw more of the world and the sea than they had ever dreamed of before, and they dined in such state with the Commander that they found themselves drinking bumpers to the flag before they knew it. They looked through the winding, oily bore of the ten-inch rifle which ranged over the nickel-steel prow of the ram, and found the whole wonderful interior of the ship crowded here and there as compactly with delicate machinery as the case of a watch, and when they found themselves back at the long tavern under the button woodtree, with the Captain in their company, they couldn't forget the wonders they had seen or divest themselves of the loyalty they had unconsciously put on. When Tom Johnson asked the Captain, his son, if the Constitution couldn't sink any battle-ship or any other ship afloat, the Captain said he thought it might, but next year every battle-ship would carry sufficient dynamite tubes, for use at short range, to blow him up in a white cloud at just fifty yards short of the fatal impact; and then he confided to his father that the steel monsters of the day were at heart the most arrant hypocrites and missionaries of peace, and that their commanders everywhere had such a profound and growing respect for each

other, that he had to laugh into his cocked hat sometimes to think of it. The Captain told them, moreover, as they smoked their pipes under the buttonwood-tree, that in a few years the naval attacks would all be made under water, while the officers of the directing battle-ships were drinking champagne and watching each other through powerful glasses, and that in the end all naval combats would be decided by mathematical computations made by the Admirals on shore, to which the tavernkeeper, who had been born since the battle, said that things were certainly coming to a pretty pass.

The

In due time, after father and son had stood together by the grave under the pines, and talked much of the absent son and brother, the Captain went away to join his ship, and things settled down to a normal condition at the long tavern under the button wood-tree. two old comrades, the long one and the short one, may still be seen wandering about the historic field, and Tom Johnson has a new respect for the countless dead in the Government cemetery, and a positive affection for the big stone soldier standing silent guard above them (which he had mistaken for a ghost in the moonlight as he came crawling back into Sharpsburg in the creaking outfit, behind the old gray horse), and which, leaning on its stone gun, looks complacently out over the tree-tops across the smiling wheat-fields to the whitewashed walls of the low Dunker church and the sunlit strip of turnpike, where the battle raged so fiercely.

T is not too much to say that the opportunity to go forward on the paths of culture, at least the chance to advance any considerable distance beyond the estate of primitive men, depends upon what the wilderness may offer in the way of domesticable beasts of burden. Where such exist we find that the folk who dwell with them in any land are almost certain to have made great advances. Where the surrounding nature, however rich, denies this boon, we find that men, however great their natural abilities may appear to be, exhibit a retarded development. Thus in North America, where there was no domesticable beast of burden, the Indians, though an able folk, remain savages. So, too, in central and southern Africa, where the mammalian life, though rich, affords no large forms which tolerate captivity, the people have failed to attain any considerable culture. On the other hand, in the great continent of the Old World, where the horse, the ass, the buffalo, the camel, and the elephant existed in the primitive wilds, men rose swiftly toward the civilized station.

The immediate effect arising from the possession of beasts of burden is greatly to enlarge the scope and educative value of human labor. A primitive agriculture, sufficient to provide for the needs of a people, can be carried on by man's labor alone, though the resulting foodsupply has generally to be supplemented by the chase. Rarely, if ever, are the products of the soil thus won sufficient in quantity to be made the basis of any commerce. Such conveyance as is necessary among the people who are served by their own hands alone, has to be accomplished by boat transportation or by the backs of men. The immediate

effect of using beasts for burden is the introduction of some kind of plough, which spares the labor of men in delving the ground, and in the use of packanimals, which, employed in the manner of caravans, greatly promote the extension of trade. A great range of secondary influences is found in the development of the arts of war, by which people, who have become provided with pack or saddle animals are able to prevail over their savage neighbors, and thus to extend the realm of a nascent civilization. Yet another influence, arising from the domestication of large beasts, arises from the fact that these creatures are important storehouses of food; their flesh spares men the labor of the chase, and so promotes those regularities of employment which lead men into civilized ways of life. In fact, by making these creatures captive, men unintentionally subjugated themselves from their ancient savagery. They were led into systematic and forethoughtful courses, and thus found a training which they could in no other way have secured.

The first and simplest use made of the animals from which man derives strength, appears to have been brought about by the subjugation of wild cattle -the bulls and buffaloes. Several wild varieties of the bovine tribe were originally widely disseminated in Europe and Asia, and these forms must have been frequent objects of chase by the ancient hunters. Although in their adult state these animals were doubtless originally intractable, the young were mild-mannered, and, as we can readily conceive, must often have been led captive to the abodes of the primitive people. As is common with all gregarious animals which have long acknowledged the authority of their natural herdsmen, the dominant males of their tribe, these creatures lent themselves to domestication. Even the first

generation of the captives reared by hand probably showed a disposition to remain with their masters, and in a few generations this native impulse might well have been so far developed that the domestic herd was established, affording perhaps at first only flesh and hides, and leading the people who made them captives to a nomadic life, that constant search for fresh fields and pastures new which characterizes people who are supported by their flocks and herds.

It is probable that the first use which was made of beasts of burden in ways in which their strength became useful to man, was in packing the tents and other valuables of their masters as they moved from place to place. Even to this day, in certain parts of the world bulls and oxen serve for such purposes. In fact the nomadic life, a fashion of society which is enforced wherever people subsist from their cattle alone, leads inevitably to such use of the beasts. In the southern Appalachian district of this country there remain traces of this service rendered by bulls and oxen. These creatures, provided with a kind of pack-saddle, are occasionally used in conveying the dried roots of the ginseng, beeswax, feathers, and the peltries which are gathered by the inhabitants of remote districts, not accessible to carriages, to the markets of the outer world. All the varieties of ordinary cattle could be made to serve as burden-carriers, and they doubtless would be continued to be used for saddle purposes in one way or another but for the wide use of the horse, a creature very much better adapted for carrying weight. The cloven foot of the bulls and buffaloes gives a weakness to the extremities which will quickly lead to disease in case they are forced to carry heavy loads such as the horse or ass may safely bear.

The help which our bovine servants render us by the power which they exert in traction, as in drawing ploughs, sleds, or wagons, appears to have been first rendered long after their introduction to the ways of man. The first of these uses in which the drawing strength of these animals was made serviceable appears to have been in the

work of ploughing. In primitive days and with primitive tools, hand delving was a sore task. The inventive genius who first contrived to overturn the earth by means of the forked limb of a tree, shaped in the semblance of a plough and drawn by oxen, began a great revolution in the art of agriculture. To this unknown genius we may award a place among the benefactors of mankind, quite as distinguished as that which is occupied by the equally unknown inventors of the arts of making fire or of smelting ores. After the experience with the strength of oxen had been won from the work of ploughing, it was easy to pass to the other grades of their employment, where they were made to draw carriages.

Next after the contribution which the kindred of the bulls have made by their strength, we must set that which has come from their milk. Although this substance can be obtained in small quantities from several other domesticated animals, the species of the genus Bos alone have yielded it in sufficient quantities greatly to affect the development of man. It is difficult to measure the importance of the addition to the diet, both of savage and civilized peoples, which milk affords. It is a fact well known to physiologists that in its simple form this substance is a complete food, capable when taken alone of sustaining life and insuring a full development of the body. It is indeed a natural contrivance exactly adapted to afford those materials which are required for the development and restoration of creatures essentially akin to our own species. Those races which avail themselves extensively of it in their dietary are the strongest and most enduring the world has known. The Aryan folk are indeed characteristically drinkers of milk and users of its products, cheese and butter. It may well be that their power is in some measure due to this resource.

In our horned cattle man won to domestication creatures which were admirably suited to promote his advancement from savagery to civilization. Indeed, the possession of these animals appears to have been a prime condition of his advancement. With them, how

ever, as with the camel, there came little in the way of those sympathetic qualities which have made it possible for our race to establish affectionate relations with other captive forms. Long intercourse with man has, it is true, somewhat diminished the wildness of these creatures, though the males remain the most indomitably ferocious of all our servants. The truth seems to be that the bovine animals have but little intellectual capacity, and it has in no wise served the purposes of man to develop such powers of mind as they have. We have ever been given to asking little of them, save docility. This we have in a high measure won with our milch cows, which of all our domesticated creatures are perhaps the most absolutely submissive; the more highly developed of them being little more than passive producers of milk, almost without a trace of instincts or emotions except such as pertain to reproduction and to feeding. It is a noteworthy fact that in all the great literature of anecdote concerning our domesticated creatures, there is hardly a trace of stories which tend to show the existence of sagacity in our common cattle.

It is evident that the variability of our domesticated bovines, as far as their bodies are concerned, is very great. Between the ancient aurochs and the more highly cultivated of its descendants, the difference is as great as that which separates any other of our captive animals from their wild ancestors. In size, shape, in flesh- and milk giving qualities, the departure from the old form of the wilderness is remarkable. Moreover, at the present time these diverse breeds of horned cattle are rapidly being multiplied, the distinctive forms probably being twice as numerous as they were at the beginning of the present century. The process of selection has led to some very wide diversifications of the body. The horns, which in the wild state are invariably well developed, and which in the cattle of our western plains attain very great size, have in certain breeds altogether disappeared, and in their place there sometimes comes a remarkable crest of bony matter which does

not project beyond the skin which covers the head. If such differences occurred in the wild state they would be regarded as separating the two types of animals widely from each other.

In treating the wool-bearing animals along with beasts of burden, we make a somewhat fanciful classification which yet is not quite without reason. By long training man has brought these species to the state where their covering of wool or hair, once a coating only sufficient to afford protection from the weather, has become a very serious load. In certain of our highly developed varieties the annual coat is so far developed that the creature loses a large part of its bulk after the shearer has done his work. Each year's fleece often amounts in weight to eight to twelve pounds, and in its lifetime the animal may yield a mass of wool far exceeding its weight of flesh and bones in any time of its life. When the fleece is mature the creature is often burdened with a load about as heavy in proportion to his size as is a horse by the weight of its rider and accoutrements.

As a flesh producer, particularly in sterile fields, sheep are more valuable than our horned cattle. They mature more rapidly, attaining their adult size and reproducing their kind in less than two years, so that in many parts of the world it is possible to obtain a larger quantity of flesh from poor pasturages with sheep than with any other of our domesticated animals. Their principal value, however, has been from the means they afforded, whereby men in high latitudes have obtained warm clothing. Before the domestication of these creatures, peoples who had to endure the winter of high latitudes were forced to rely upon hides for covering, a form of clothing which is clumsy, uncleanly, and which the chase could not supply in any considerable quantity. Owing to its peculiar structure, the hair of the sheep makes the strongest and warmest covering, when rendered into cloth, which has ever been devised for the use of man.

The value of this contribution is directly related to the conditions of climate. In the intertropical regions, the sheep plays no part of importance. In high latitudes he is of the utmost