Hidden Treasure Part 23

"What do you mean, Mr. White?"

"Well, I've been thinking for some time that the way to get the other farmers around here interested in concrete work and get them buying sand from your pit, Bob, would be to have them send some of their boys over here to learn how cement work is done, for while anyone can easily learn how to use cement, still it must be understood to use it correctly. Of course, they'll have a good deal of work to do, but after planting their oats and corn, they might be able to take a few days off and come to help you."

"We won't be ready to start the cow barn that soon," said Bob.

"But couldn't they be making up these pre-cast sections, as you call them, or dig out for the foundations and put in the concrete footings."

"Oh, yes, we could do that, but Aunt Bettie and I haven't decided definitely on our plans yet."

"Couldn't you hurry them up a little so we could get the cow barn under way? It seems to me if we could get the farmers' sons here to Brookside, and get them interested in concrete buildings, they could then show their fathers how the work is done, for," he added laughing, "it's easier to teach a young dog a new trick than an old one.

Besides, Bob, don't lose sight of the fact that it will be profitable for you."

"How's that?" asked Bob.

"You agree to pay them for their labor in sand and gravel, and once you get them using concrete, they'll come back for more. Since you were in to see me last, I've been thinking the matter over and I believe you can manage it so you can get what help you need in this way, except, perhaps, one or two carpenters when you come to the heavy work of the cow barn. It will be to their advantage to learn how to do the work. I was talking to the two boys we brought out with us to-day to see if I couldn't get them to help you, but they said they didn't want to be mussing around with farm work. I told Edward, my nephew, that he didn't understand enough about farms to know what was good for him, or he'd be glad to help you. Well, I must go and see your Uncle Joe. Think over what I've been telling you about having the farmers'

boys help you and I'll think it over too and see how it can be managed. Of course, you wouldn't want them all here at one time. I think if they came two or three at a time, it would be better. We could work out a schedule of dates, and know when each boy would come so there would be no break in the working force. You'd better see if you'll have tools and forms enough to keep them all working, Bob, and if you don't, your Uncle Joe ought to get you a few more."

Left to himself, Bob began to turn over in his mind the possibilities and advantages of having more a.s.sistance, and getting the cow barn started earlier than he had antic.i.p.ated. Now that it would only require a little more than another week to complete the hen house, he decided that with double the number of forms they were now using, and keeping Duncan Wallace casting sections, instead of fence posts, as they had originally planned, they could probably get enough made for a good start on the cow barn by the time the excavations and footings were in place.

At four-thirty Bob quit work as usual and went to the house and cleaned up to do his milking. Just as he was finishing his last cow, his Aunt Bettie and the girls, accompanied by their visitors, came into the yard to see him milk. Bob explained that as soon as the new cow barn was finished, the milking would no longer be done in the barnyard, but in the barn, and instead of milking by hand, they would install automatic milking machines. He could then take care of twenty cows easier than he could now take care of ten milked by hand.

"How do you like the new Holsteins?" asked the banker, as he watched Bob finish off the last cow.

"They're fine, Mr. White. This one's name is Spot. She's my favorite; she's a three-year-old and gives twenty quarts of milk each day.

That's better than any of the others, although two of them come pretty close to her. When we get the new barn and can, regulate their feeding, they'll all do much better."

"Why, do you know how much milk each cow gives?" inquired Mrs. White, surprised.

"Certainly," said Bob, "we not only know, but we set down every day how much we get, so we can keep a record. If you'll come down to the dairy house, I'll show you how it's done. Of course, we don't measure each cow's milk separately every day, or weigh their cream every day, but every time I milk, I keep the milk of one cow in a separate pail, so it may be weighed. For instance, I'm taking note of Spot's yield to-day."

"This is very interesting, Bob," said Mrs. White. "I didn't think you went into farming so scientifically."

"They don't on some farms," replied Bob, "but Aunt Bettie and I keep books here on Brookside Farm. We want to find out what pays the best."

"That's right," said the banker, "working and figuring go hand in hand, and if you keep that up Brookside Farm will soon be paying a good profit."

"Will you let me see your books after supper, Bob?" he asked. "Your Aunt Bettie has invited us all to stay and have supper with you."

"Yes," said Bob. "I'll be glad to."

"Did that one cow give that much milk?" asked the banker's wife in astonishment, as she saw the huge pail Bob had gotten from Spot.

"Yes," said Bob proudly.

"Why, I had no idea one cow could give so much milk," she replied.

[Ill.u.s.tration: EXTRA PROFITS ARE NOT THE ONLY THINGS A FARMER GETS FROM A HERD OF WELL-BRED DAIRY COWS. THERE IS A SATISFACTION IN HAVING SPENT HIS TIME CARING FOR ANIMALS THAT ARE WORTH WHILE]

"That's why," said Bob, "it doesn't pay to keep common cows. They eat as much as a purebred and don't give nearly as much milk. Besides, their milk isn't as rich as Holsteins. If you come along to the dairy house, I'll show you how we separate the milk and get the cream."

"May I carry one of the pails, Bob?" asked Ruth.

"You'll have to be careful, Ruth, if you carry it," admonished her aunt. "If you and Edith don't go racing, you may carry it between you," she continued, as the two girls picked up one of the largest pails and started off for the dairy house.

When they arrived, Bob weighed the milk given by Spot and made a note of it in his record book, setting down the date and name of the cow; then he weighed the balance of the milk, and under the heading of "Herd of Ten Cows," he set down the total amount given by all. "You see," said Bob, "in this way we have an individual record of milk taken every ten days from each cow, and a daily record of the ten taken together. It doesn't make so much bookkeeping and is close enough for all practical purposes. When we get our electric lights in, Mrs. White," he continued, as he started the separator, "we're going to put an electric motor on the separator. Then I can be doing something else while the milk's going through."

"Listen to that, Ida," said the banker, addressing his wife.

"Everything on Brookside is going to be run by power and every person on the farm will be multiplied by two or five before Bob and his Aunt Bettie get through, and besides it won't be such hard work."

"No," laughed Bob, "when the power does the work, you don't notice it so much."

"That's so," said the banker's wife; "you must be tired, Bob, at the end of a day, with all the activities you have around here."

"Oh, one gets used to it, Mrs. White. I've gained ten pounds since I came here."

He put the cream he had gotten in a cream can and placed it in the trough. He opened the icehouse door and put some more ice around the cans.

"How'd you happen to get the old ice in the new dairy, Bob?" asked the banker.

"Well, we figured if we left it in the old icehouse, over half of it would melt during the summer and we wouldn't lose anything like that much by transferring it, so we put it on the wagon and hauled it over.

Of course, when this ice was cut, the cakes were made all kinds of sizes, which gave us some trouble in piling it up. Next year we're going to cut the ice in twenty-two by twenty-two-inch sizes. I don't know whether I told you or not, Mr. White, but the floor of the icehouse slopes toward the center, so each cake helps to support the other as we take them out."

"Just listen to that, Ida. See how Bob has figured out all these things. Who would have thought of that?"

"I didn't," confessed Bob. "That was in one of the farm bulletins on icehouse construction."

"Somebody else worked it out, but you used the idea," said the banker.

"Often a man who can utilize another's idea can develop it to greater profit than the one who first created it. It's my opinion, Bob, that it's the little things in life that are carefully managed that make a success of the big things."

"What do you do with your skim milk, Bob?" asked Mrs. White. "We feed that to the calves, and what's left over to the pigs, and some of it occasionally to the chickens."

"Do you make b.u.t.ter, Bob?" asked Mr. White.

"We used to," said Bob, "but now we sell all our cream to the creamery and buy our b.u.t.ter." "What, buy your own b.u.t.ter?"

"Yes, Aunt Bettie says it pays better to buy b.u.t.ter from those who make it in a big way than try to make it ourselves. We get the b.u.t.ter when we deliver the cream and in that way we don't have the extra work to do. Of course, we could make our own b.u.t.ter, and would do so if there was no creamery, but the money that goes for a pound of b.u.t.ter is less than we get for a pound of b.u.t.ter fat, and we save the time Aunt Betty would have to devote to it."

Bob now opened the refrigerator and showed them how they kept their eggs, b.u.t.ter and fresh meat.

"My, what a nice-looking lot of things to eat," said Mrs. White admiringly, as she looked into the white-enameled refrigerator. "See the crates of nice white eggs and freshly-killed poultry."

"Of course, we aren't killing much poultry now," said Bob. "We won't get started on that until the hen house is finished, but we're killing off a lot of the common chickens to get rid of them. They're bringing thirty cents per pound now."

"We'll wait supper till you get your shower and change your clothes, Bob," whispered his aunt, as the party came to the house and Bob disappeared. The favorable comments made by the banker and his wife on his work raised his thoughts above the level of mere clothes. He cared not that his ready-made suit compared rather poorly with the tailor- made clothes of their boy visitors. He decided that as he was going to be a farmer, he would wear the kind of clothes that belonged to farmers, and wouldn't try to ape others in the matter of dress.

After supper was over, Bob and his uncle, with the banker, adjourned to the sitting room, where they spent a half hour in going over their system of cost-keeping.

"This is a fine system, Joe," said the banker. "I'm glad to know you're taking such an intelligent interest in your farm."