Part 23 (1/2)
”And my gardens, too?”
”Yes, they are fixtures and count with the acres. You see, this, land didn't cost quite $75 an acre, but I hold it $50 better for what we've done to it; I don't believe Bill Jackson would sell his for less. I offered him $10,000 for a hundred acres, and he refused. We've put up the price of real estate in this neighborhood, Mrs. Williams.”
”Well, let's get at the figures. I'm dying to see how we stand.”
”I have summarized them here:--
”To additional land and development of plant $20,353.00 To interest on previous investment 4,220.00 Wages 4,662.00 Food for twenty-five people 1,523.00 Food for stock 2,120.00 Taxes and insurance 207.00 Shoeing and repairs 309.00 ---------- ”Making in all $33,394.00
spent this year.
”The receipts are:--
”First quarter $1,297.00 Second quarter 1,706.00 Third quarter 3,284.00 Fourth quarter 4,831.00 --------- ”Making $11,118.00
”But we agreed to pay $4000 a year to the farm for our food and shelter, if it did as well by us as the town house did. Shall we do it, Polly?”
”Why, of course; we've been no end more comfortable here.”
”Well, if we don't expect to get something for nothing, I think we ought to add it. Adding $4000 will make the returns from the farm $15,118, leaving $18,276 to add to the interest-bearing debt. Last year this debt was $84,404. Add this year's deficit, and we have $102,680. A good deal of money, Polly, but I showed you well over $100,000 in a.s.sets,--at our own price, to be sure, but not far wrong.”
”Will you ever have to increase the debt?”
”I think not. I believe we shall reduce it a little next year, and each year thereafter. But, supposing it only pays expenses, how can you put on as much style on the interest of $100,000 anywhere else as you can here? It can't be done. When the fruit comes in and this factory is running full time, it will earn well on toward $25,000 a year, and it will not cost over $14,000 to run it, interest and all. It won't take long at that rate to wipe out the interest-bearing debt. You'll be rich, Polly, before you're ten years older.”
”You are rich now, in imagination and expectation, Mr. Headman, but I'll bank with you for a while longer. But what's the use of charging the farm with interest when you credit it with our keeping?”
”There isn't much reason in that, Polly. It's about as broad as it is long. I simply like to keep books in that way. We charge the farm with a little more than $4000 interest, and we credit it with just $4000 for our food and shelter. We'll keep on in this way because I like it.”
CHAPTER LIII
THE MILK MACHINE
In opening the year 1898 I was faced by a larger business proposition than I had originally planned. When I undertook the experiment of a factory farm, I placed the limit of capital to be invested at about $60,000. Now I found that I had exceeded that amount by a good many thousand dollars, and I knew that the end was not yet. The factory was not complete, and it would be several years before it would be at its best in output. While it had cost me more than was originally contemplated, and while there was yet more money to be spent, there was still no reason for discouragement. Indeed, I felt so certain of ultimate profits that I was ready to put as much into it as could possibly be used to advantage.
The original plan was for a soiling farm on which I could milk thirty cows, fatten two hundred hogs, feed a thousand hens, and wait for thirty-five hundred fruit trees to come to a profitable age. With this in view, I set apart forty acres of high, dry land, for the feeding-grounds, twenty acres of which was devoted to the cows; and I now found that this twenty-acre lot would provide an ample exercise field for twice that number. It was in gra.s.s (timothy, red-top, and blue gra.s.s), and the cows nibbled persistently during the short hours each day when they were permitted to be on it; but it was never reckoned as part of their ration. The sod was kept in good condition and the field free from weeds, by the use of the mowing-machine, set high, every ten or twenty days, according to the season. Following the mower, we use a spring-tooth rake which bunched the weeds and gathered or broke up the droppings; and everything the rake caught was carted to the manure vats.
Our big Holsteins do not suffer from close quarters, so far as I am able to judge, neither do they take on fat. From thirty minutes to three hours (depending on the weather), is all the outing they get each day; but this seems sufficient for their needs. The well-ventilated stable with its moderate temperature suits the sedentary nature of these milk machines, and I am satisfied with the results. I cannot, of course, speak with authority of the comparative merits of soiling _versus_ grazing, for I have had no experience in the latter; but in theory soiling appeals to me, and in practice it satisfies me.
When I found I could keep more cows on the land set apart for them, I built another cow stable for the dry cows and the heifers, and added four stalls to my milk stable by turning each of the hospital wards into two stalls.
The ten heifers which I reserved in the spring of 1896 were now nearly two years old. They were expected to ”come in” in the early autumn, when they would supplement the older herd. The cows purchased in 1895 were now five years old, and quite equal to the large demand which we made upon them. They had grown to be enormous creatures, from thirteen hundred to fourteen hundred pounds in weight, and they were proving their excellence as milk producers by yielding an average of forty pounds a day. We had, and still have, one remarkable milker, who thinks nothing of yielding seventy pounds when fresh, and who doesn't fall below twenty-five pounds when we are forced to dry her off. I have no doubt that she would be a successful candidate for advanced registration if we put her to the test. For ten months in each year these cows give such quant.i.ties of milk as would surprise a man not acquainted with this n.o.ble Dutch family. My five common cows were good of their kind, but they were not in the cla.s.s with the Holsteins. They were not ”robber”
cows, for they fully earned their food; but there was no great profit in them. To be sure, they did not eat more than two-thirds as much as the Holsteins; but that fact did not stand to their credit, for the basic principle of factory farming is to consume as much raw material as possible and to turn out its equivalent in finished product. The common cows consumed only two-thirds as much raw material as the Holsteins, and turned out rather less than two-thirds of their product, while they occupied an equal amount of floor s.p.a.ce; consequently they had to give place to more competent machines. They were to be sold during the season.
Why dairymen can be found who will pay $50 apiece for cows like those I had for sale (better, indeed, than the average), is beyond my method of reckoning values. Twice $50 will buy a young cow bred for milk, and she would prove both bread and milk to the purchaser in most cases. The question of food should settle itself for the dairyman as it does for the factory farmer. The more food consumed, the better for each, if the ratio of milk be the same.
My Holsteins are great feeders; more than 2 tons of grain, 2-1/2 tons of hay, and 4 or 5 tons of corn fodder, in addition to a ton of roots or succulent vegetables, pa.s.s through their great mouths each year. The hay is nearly equally divided between timothy, oat hay, and alfalfa; and when I began to figure the gross amount that would be required for my 50 Holstein gourmands, I saw that the widow's farm had been purchased none too quickly. To provide 100 tons of grain, 125 tons of hay, and 200 or 300 tons of corn fodder for the cows alone, was no slight matter; but I felt prepared to furnish this amount of raw material to be trans.m.u.ted into golden b.u.t.ter. The Four Oaks b.u.t.ter had made a good reputation, and the four oak leaves stamped on each mould was a sufficient guarantee of excellence. My city grocer urged a larger product, and I felt safe in promising it; at the same time, I held him up for a slight advance in price. Heretofore it had netted me 32 cents a pound, but from January 1, 1898, I was to have 33-1/3 cents for each pound delivered at the station at Exeter, I agreeing to furnish at least 50 pounds a day, six days in a week.