CHAPTER XVIII

WHITE WYANDOTTES

"Sam," said I, "I am going to start this poultry plant from just as near

the beginning of things as possible. I want you to dispose of every hen

on the place within the next twenty days, and to burn everything that

has been used in connection with them. We've cleared this land of

disease germs, if there were germs in it, by turning it bottom-side up;

now let's start free from the pestiferous vermin that make a hen's life

unhappy. No stock, either old or young, shall be brought here. When we

want to change our breeding, we'll buy eggs from the best fanciers and

hatch them in our own incubators. It will then be our own fault if we

don't keep our chickens comfortable and free from their enemies. This is

sound theory, and we'll try how it works out in practice. Certainly it

will be easier to keep clean if we start clean. Not one board or piece

of lumber that has been used for any other purpose shall find place in

my hen-houses. Eternal vigilance makes a full egg basket; and a full egg

basket means a lot of money at the year's end. I will never find fault

with you for being too careful Attend to the details in such way as

suits you best, provided the result is thorough and everlasting

cleanliness. Nothing less will win out, and nothing less will meet the

requirements of our factory rules.

"The first thing to do is to get the incubating cellar made. It ought to

be four feet in the ground and four feet out of it. Make it ten feet by

fifteen, inside measure, and you can easily run five two-hundred-egg

incubators. Build it near the south fence in No. 4,--that's the lot for

the hens. The walls are to be of brick, and we'll have a brick floor put

in, for it's too cold to concrete it now. Gables are to point east and

west, and each is to have a window; put the door in the middle of the

south wall, and shingle the roof. Digging through three feet of frost

will be hard, but it must be done, and done quickly. I want you to start

your incubator lamps before the 3d of February."

"I can dig the hole without much trouble,--big fire on the ground for

two or three hours will help,--and I can put on the roof and do all the

carpenter work, but I can't lay the brick."

"I'll look out for that part of the job, but I want you to see that

things are pushed, for I shall have a thousand eggs here by February 1st

and another thousand by the 25th, and these eggs mean money."

"What do you have to pay for them?"

"Ten cents apiece,--$200 for two thousand eggs."

"Well, I should say! Are they hand-painted? I wouldn't have had to quit

business if I could have sold my eggs at a quarter of that price."

"That's all right, Sam, but you didn't sell White Wyandotte eggs for

hatching. I've contracted with two of the best-known fanciers of

Wyandottes in the country to send me five hundred eggs apiece February

1st and 25th. I don't think the price is high for the stock."

"Have you decided to keep 'dottes? I hoped you would try Leghorns;

they're great layers."

"Yes, they're great summer layers, but the American birds will beat them

hollow in winter; and I must have as steady a supply of eggs as

possible. My customers don't stop eating eggs in winter, and they'll be

willing to pay more for them at that season. The Leghorn is too small to

make a good broiler, and as half the chicks come cockerels, we must look

out for that."

"Why do you throw down the Plymouth Rocks? They're bigger than 'dottes,

and just as good layers."

"I threw down the barred Plymouth Rocks on account of color; I like

white hens best. It was hard to decide between White Rocks and

Wyandottes, for there's mighty little difference between them as

all-around hens. I really think I chose the 'dottes because the first

reply to my letters was from a man who was breeding them."

"They are 'beauts,' all of them, and I'll give them a good chance to

spread themselves," said Sam.

"What percentage of hatch may we expect from purchased eggs?"

"About sixty chicks out of every hundred eggs, I reckon."

"That would be doing pretty well, wouldn't it? If we had good luck with

the sixty chicks, how many would grow up?"

"Fifty ought to."

"Of these fifty, can we count on twenty-five pullets?"

"Yes."

"That's what I was getting at. You think we might, by good luck, raise

twenty-five pullets from each hundred eggs. I'll cut that in the middle

and be satisfied with twelve, or even with ten. At that rate the two

thousand eggs that cost $200 will give me two hundred pullets to begin

the egg-making next November. That's not enough; we ought to raise just

twice that number. I'll spend as much more on eggs to be hatched by the

middle of April or the first of May, and then we can reasonably expect

to go into next winter with four hundred pullets. They will cost the

farm a dollar apiece, but the farm will have four hundred cockerels to

sell at fifty cents each, which will materially reduce the cost."

"I think you put that pretty low, sir; we ought to raise more than four

hundred pullets out of four thousand eggs."

"Everything more will be clear gain. I shall be satisfied with four

hundred. We must also get at the brooder house. This is the order in

which I want the buildings to stand in the chicken lot: first, the

incubating house, 10 feet from the south line; 40 feet north of this,

the brooder house; and 120 feet north of that, the first hen-house, with

runs 100 feet deep. We'll build other houses for the birds as we need

them. They are all to face to the south. If the brooder house is 50 feet

long and 15 feet wide, it can easily care for the eight hundred chicks,

and for half as many more, if we are lucky enough to get them.

"We'll have a five-foot walk against the north wall of this house, and a

ten-foot space north and south through the centre for heating plant and

food. This will leave a space at each side ten by twenty feet, to be cut

into five pens four feet by ten, each of which will mother a hundred

chicks or more. There must be plenty of glass in the south wall, and

we'll use overhead water pipes in each hover.

"There's no hurry about the poultry-houses. You can build one in the

early summer, and perhaps another in the fall. I expect you to do the

carpenter work on these houses. I'll see the mason at once and have him

ready by the time you've dug the hole. The incubators will be here in

good time, and we want everything ready for work as soon as the eggs

arrive."

Sam was pleased with his job; it was exactly to his liking. He took real

delight in caring for fowls, and he was especially anxious to prove to

me that it was not so much lack of knowledge as lack of capital that had

caused the downfall of his previous efforts. Sam could not then

understand why one man could sell his eggs at thirty-six cents a dozen

when his neighbor could get only sixteen; he found out later.

The mason's work for the incubator house and the foundation wall for the

brooder house cost $290. The lumber bill for these two, including doors

and windows, was $464. The five incubators, $65, and the hot-water

heater for the brooder house, $68, made the total $897. Add to this $400

paid during two months for eggs, and we have $1297 as the cost of

starting the poultry plant.

The Fat of the Land: The Story of an American Farm · 第 18 / 67 章