close to changing that situation.
Monsieur Juste was a blacksmith by trade, but horseshoes were no longer a sufficiently broad field for him; he dreamed of business, of firms, he dreamed of big chimneys spitting black smoke. When the joke about the carloads of buttons was told in his presence, Monsieur Juste would say that if they wanted, it could stop being a joke and become reality.
âThereâs no reasonâ, he said, âwhy the products from our village shouldnât be sold in every store from Halifax to Vancouver.â
Monsieur Juste, perceptively, had observed for some time that during milking the cowâs tail swings to the left andright, sometimes slapping the farmer in the face, which is unpleasant. He had also observed that the animalsâ hind feet were constantly twitching and sometimes kicking out, which puts the pail of milk in great danger of being overturned. It was a serious problem. Monsieur Juste searched through several catalogues of farm products, he leafed through his collection of the
Bulletin des Agriculteurs,
he even went and looked in the cureâs encyclopedia, but he found nothing. He came to the conclusion that never before had mankind thought of solving the problem of the restless legs and tails of cows. Monsieur Juste reflected for a few weeks; with his thick blacksmithâs pencil he made many drawings on his bags of chewing tobacco. Once the bag was empty he would throw it out, always forgetting his drawings, and begin again. Then one day he found it! His dream, his idea, his project â now he could begin to create it in iron.
Bent over his anvil, he twisted the iron into the shape of a hook, into large manacles that would be fitted to the cowâs hocks. Such a hook would be placed on each of the animalâs legs. Between the hooks, Monsieur Juste arranged an adjustable chain that could hold the recalcitrant limbs firm and motionless. To this chain Monsieur Juste welded a smaller one, whose purpose was to hold the swinging tail in place. A great problem, then, had been solved: it was, no doubt, a step backwards for the cows, but a great leap forward for mankind.
Monsieur Juste made a few of these devices but when he suggested them to the farmers in the village they simply laughed in his face. Monsieur Juste didnât grow discouraged; he had read in magazines about the lives of great inventors; he knew these great men were always misunderstoodby those around them. He decided, then, to turn to the world outside.
With his wife, he wrote a letter describing his invention, praising its usefulness. His letter ended with these words: âIn the modern era one cannot live without the invention of Monsieur Justeâ. Then he had the letter translated into English by the postmaster: in fact, Monsieur Rancourt had learned English in the army during the First World War. And that was how Monsieur Justeâs invention was given the English name âAnti-Cow-Kicksâ!
Madame Juste carefully wrapped her husbandâs invention in tissue paper, folded the letter translated into English and attached it to the chain; she placed the precious object in a box, carefully wrapped the box and, as the postmaster had told her, she wrote: âFrom Juste Industries Ltd., Sainte-Justine, Canada. To the I-Donât-Know-What Company, Texas, U.S.Aâ. Monsieur Juste had noticed the address in one of his farm magazines.
Monsieur Juste waited. His shop grew silent. The hammer no longer struck the anvil. Monsieur Juste did not work. He spent days beside the fire, sitting on the anvil, telling how the idea had come to him of dealing with the United States.
âIf you want to be successful in businessâ, he would say, âyou have to dive in horns first, like a bull. The moneyâs there in front of you! Now us French Canadians, weâre afraid of money. But Iâm gonna prove to you that I can be successful.â
A month later, a letter arrived from