The Fat of the Land Part 29

CHAPTER LXV

THE END OF THE THIRD YEAR

"Polly," said I, on the evening of December 31, "let's settle the accounts for the year, and see how much we must credit to 'experience'

to make the figures balance."

"Aren't you going to credit anything to health, and good times generally? If not, you don't play fair."

"We'll keep those things in reserve, to spring on the enemy at a critical moment; perhaps they won't be needed."

"I fancy you will have to bring all your reserves into action this time, Mr. Headman, for you promised to make a good showing at the end of the third year."

"Well, so I will; at least, according to my own estimate; but others may not see it as I do."

"Don't let others see it at all, then. The experiment is yours, isn't it?"

"Yes, for us; but it's more than a personal matter. I want to prove that a factory farm is sound in theory and safe in practice, and that it will fit the needs of a whole lot of farmers."

"I hardly think that 'a whole lot of farmers,' or of any other kind of people, will put $100,000 into a farm on any terms. Don't you think you've been a little extravagant?"

"Only on the home forty, Polly. I will expound this matter to you some time until you fall asleep, but not to-day. We have other business on hand. I want to give you this warning to begin with: you are not to jump to a conclusion or on to my figures until you have fairly considered two items which enter into this year's expense account. I've built an extra hog-house and have bought ten thousand bushels of grain, at a total expense of about $6000. Neither of these items was really needed this year; but as they are our insurance against disease and famine, I secured them early and at low prices. They won't appear in the expense account again,--at least, not for many years,--and they give me a sense of security that is mighty comforting."

"But what if Anderson sets fire to your piggery, or lightning strikes your granary,--how about the expense account then?"

"What do you suppose fire insurance policies are for? To paper the wall?

No, madam, they are to pay for new buildings if the old ones burn up. I charge the farm over $200 a year for this security, and it's a binding contract."

"Well, I'll try and forget the $6000 if you'll get to the figures at once."

"All right. First, let me go over the statement for the last quarter of the year. The sales were: apples, from 150 old trees at $3 per tree, $450; 10 calves, $115; 360 hens and 500 c.o.c.kerels, $430; 5 cows (the common ones, to Jackson) at $35 each, $175; eggs, $827; b.u.t.ter, $1311; and 281 hogs, rushed to market in December when only about eight months old and sold for $3.70 per hundred to help swell this account, $2649; making a total for the fourth quarter of $5957.

"The items of expense for the year were:--

"Interest on investment $5,132.00 New hog-house 4,220.00 10,000 bu. of grain 2,450.00 Food for colony 5,322.00 Food for stock 1,640.00 Seeds and fertilizers 2,155.00 Insurance and taxes 730.00 Shoeing and repairs 349.00 Replenishments 450.00

"Total $22,760.00

"The credit account reads: first quarter, $2030; second quarter, $2221; third quarter, $5387; fourth quarter, $5957; total, $15,595.

"If we take out the $6670 for the extra piggery and the grain, the expense account and the income will almost balance, even leaving out the $4000 which we agreed to pay for food and shelter. I think that's a fair showing for the three years, don't you?"

"Possibly it is; but what a lot of money you pay for wages. It's the largest item."

"Yes, and it always will be. I don't claim that a factory farm can be run like a grazing or a grain farm. One of its objects is to furnish well-paid employment to a lot of people. We've had nine men and two lads all the year, and three extra men for seven months, three women on the farm and five in the house,--twenty-two people to whom we've paid wages this year. Doesn't that count for anything? How many did we keep in the city?"

"Four,--three women and a man."

"Then we give employment to eighteen more people at equally good wages and in quite as wholesome surroundings. Do you realize, Polly, that the maids in the house get $1300 out of the $5300,--one quarter of the whole? Possibly there is a suspicion of extravagance on the home forty."

"Not a bit of it! You know that you proved to me that it cost us $5200 a year for board and shelter in the city, and you only credit the farm with $4000. That other $1200 would more than pay the extra wages. I really don't think it costs as much to live here as it did on B----Street, and any one can see the difference."

"You are right. If we call our plant an even $100,000, which at five per cent would mean $5000 a year,--where can you get house, lawns, woods, gardens, horses, dogs, servants, liberty, birds, and sun-dials on a wide and liberal scale for $5000 a year, except on a farm like this? You can't buy furs, diamonds, and yachts with such money anyhow or anywhere, so personal expenditures must be left out of all our calculations. No, the wage account will always be the large one, and I am glad it is so, for it is one finger of the helping hand."

"You haven't finished with the figures yet. You don't know what to add to our _permanent_ investment."

"That's quickly done. _Nineteen thousand five hundred and ninety-five dollars_ from twenty-two thousand seven hundred and sixty dollars leaves three thousand one hundred and sixty-five dollars to charge to our investment. I resent the word 'permanent,' which you underscored just now, for each year we're going to have a surplus to subtract from this interest-bearing debt."

"Precious little surplus you'll have for the next few years, with Jack and Jane getting married, and--"

"But, Polly, you can't charge weddings to the farm, any more than we can yachts and diamonds."

"I don't see why. A wedding is a very important part of one's life, and I think the farm ought to be _made_ to pay for it."

"I quite agree with you; but we must add $3165 to the old farm debt, and take up our increased burden with such courage as we may. In round figures it is $106,000. Does that frighten you, Polly?"

"A little, perhaps; but I guess we can manage it. _You_ would have been frightened three years ago if some one had told you that you would put $106,000 into a farm of less than five hundred acres."

"You're right. Spending money on a farm is like other forms of vice,--hated, then tolerated, then embraced. But seriously, a man would get a bargain if he secured this property to-day for what it has cost us. I wouldn't take a bonus of $50,000 and give it up."

"You'll hardly find a purchaser at that price, and I'm glad you can't, for I want to live here and nowhere else."

CHAPTER LXVI

LOOKING BACKWARD

With the close of the third year ends the detailed history of the factory farm. All I wish to do further is to give a brief synopsis of the debit and credit accounts for each of the succeeding four years.

First I will say a word about the people who helped me to start the factory. Thompson and his wife are still with me, and they are well on toward the wage limit. Johnson has the gardens and Lars the stables, and Otto is chief swineherd. French and his wife act as though they were fixtures on the place, as indeed I hope they are. They have saved a lot of money, and they are the sort who are inclined to let well enough alone. Judson is still at Four Oaks, doing as good service as ever; but I fancy that he is minded to strike out for himself before long. He has been fortunate in money matters since he gave up the horse and buggy; he informed me six months ago that he was worth more than $5000.

"I shouldn't have had five thousand cents if I'd stuck to that darned old buggy," said he, "and I guess I'll have to thank you for throwing me down that day."

Zeb has married Lena, and a little cottage is to be built for them this winter, just east of the farm-house; and Lena's place is to be filled by her cousin, who has come from the old country.

Anderson and Sam both left in 1898,--poor, faithful Anderson because his heart gave out, and Sam because his beacon called him.

Lars's boys, now sixteen and eighteen, have full charge of the poultry plant, and are quite up to Sam in his best days. Of course I have had all kinds of troubles with all sorts of men; but we have such a strong force of "reliables" that the atmosphere is not suited to the idler or the hobo, and we are, therefore, never seriously annoyed. Of one thing I am certain: no man stays long at our farm-house without apprehending the uses of napkin and bath-tub, and these are strong missionary forces.

Through careful tilth and the systematic return of all waste to the land, the acres at Four Oaks have grown more fertile each year. The soil was good seven years ago, and we have added fifty per cent to its crop capacity. The amount of waste to return to the land on a farm like this is enormous, and if it be handled with care, there will be no occasion to spend much money for commercial fertilizers. I now buy fertilizers only for the mid-summer dressing on my timothy and alfalfa fields. The apple trees are very heavily mulched, even beyond the spread of their branches, with waste fresh from the vats, and once a year a light dressing of muriate of potash is applied. The trees have grown as fast as could be desired, and all of them are now in bearing. The apples from these young trees sold for enough last year to net ninety cents for each tree, which is more than the trees have ever cost me.

In 1898 these orchards yielded $38; in 1899, $165; in 1900, $530; in 1901, $1117. Seven years from the date of planting these trees, which were then three years old, I had received in money $4720, or $1200 more than I paid for the fifty acres of land on which they grew. If one would ask for better returns, all he has to do is to wait; for there is a sort of geometrical progression inherent in the income from all well-cared-for orchards, which continues in force for about fifteen years. There is, however, no rule of progress unless the orchards are well cared for, and I would not lead any one to the mistake of planting an orchard and then doing nothing but wait. Cultivate, feed, prune, spray, dig bores, fight mice, rabbits, aphides, and the thousand other enemies to trees and fruit, and do these things all the time and then keep on doing them, and you will win out. Omit all or any of them, and the chances are that you will fail of big returns.

But orcharding is not unique in this. Every form of business demands prompt, timely, and intelligent attention to make it yield its best. The orchards have been my chief care for seven years; the spraying, mulching, and cultivation have been done by the men, but I think I have spent one whole year, during the past seven, among my trees. Do I charge my orchards for this time? No; for I have gotten as much good from the trees as they have from me, and honors are easy. A meditative man in his sixth l.u.s.trum can be very happy with pruning-hook and shears among his young trees. If he cannot, I am sincerely sorry for him.