THE FARMER'S MAGAZINE.

OCTOBER, 1858.

PLATE I.

A PRIZE DEVON OX.

This ox, bred and fed by Lord Leicester, at Holkham, was calved on the 30th of October, 1853. His sire was Musician (255), grandsire Quartley's Prince of Wales (105), dam Cinderella (71), and grandam Caroline (60).

At the Birmingham Show, in December, 1856, he took the first prize of £10, with the silver medal for the breeder, as the best Devon steer under three years and three months old. At Poissy, in the spring of 1857, he received a prize of 1,000f. At the Norfolk Agricultural Society's meeting, in June 1857, he took the prize of £5, with the silver medal, as the best fat steer of any breed. At the Birmingham Show, in December 1857, he was awarded the first prize of £10 as the best Devon ox, the extra prize of £20 as the best of all the Devons, and Lord Ward's prize of £25 as the best ox bred and fed by an exhibitor, and the silver medal for the breeder.

This was altogether an admirable beast, most symmetrical in form and fine in quality. Indeed, his symmetry was considered the most perfect of any animal we have now had "out" for many years. At the Birmingham Meeting, in 1856, he was one of the three ultimately selected by the judges as worthy of the gold medal, and was very near taking it; the first time a Devon ever came so close on the chief honors in the Midland counties.

Alma Mater claimed him for the sacrifice—procumbit humi bos! Mr. Stevens, of Oxford, must close this sad eventful history, and tell how mighty Dons and jovial Fellows dallied over the sweet short-rib and prime sirloin of Holkham's famous ox.

The Filler has a good deal of the character of the Clydesdale about her, and the scene altogether a Scotch look. What with the girl petting her favourite, the old bearded mountaineers, and the more picturesque than tidy stabling, the make-up of a very pleasing picture has been obtained. In a few years hence it may be more difficult to find. The steam-plough is to out-pace even the smartactioned horses of the Clyde. The bothies and shealings have latterly been subject to considerable improvement, and modern Agriculture may yet find shoes and stockings for her Highland Lassie. More machinery and better buildings will promise to make sad havoc of the poetry even of a hill farm, and what may look very well in a picture may hardly pay in practice. "Are not the cattle beautiful?" asked a friend of an agriculturist, over one of Claude's master-pieces. "Well, they may be beautiful," responded the other, "but I should be very sorry to have such a ragged lot about my place." Our artist's make-up may be open to some such similar a criticism.