CHAPTER XX

A RATION FOR PRODUCT

Nelson was to commence work on the cow-house at once; at least, the

mason was. I left the job as a whole to Nelson, and he made some sort of

contract with the mason. The agreement was that I should pay $4260 for

the barn complete. The machinery we put into it was very simple,--a

water heater and two cauldrons for cooking food. All three cost about

$60.

Thompson had selected six cows, from those bought with the place, as

worth wintering. They were now giving from six to eight quarts each, and

were due to come in in April and May. An eight-quart-a-day cow was not

much to my liking, but Thompson said that with good care they would do

better in the spring. "Four of those cows ought to make fine milkers,"

he said; "they are built for it,--long bodies, big bags, milk veins that

stand out like crooked welts, light shoulders, slender necks, and lean

heads. They are young, too; and if you'll dehorn them, I believe they'll

make your thoroughbreds hump themselves to keep up with them at the milk

pail. You see, these cows never had more than half a chance to show

what they could do. They have never been 'fed for milk.' Farmers don't

do that much. They think that if a cow doesn't bawl for food or drink

she has enough. I suppose she has enough to keep her from starving, and

perhaps enough to hold her in fair condition, but not enough to do this

and fill the milk pail, too. I read somewhere about a ration for

'maintenance' and one for 'product,' and there was a deal of difference.

Most farmers don't pay much attention to these things, and I guess

that's one reason why they don't get on faster."

"You've got the whole matter down fine in that 'ration for product,'

Thompson, and that's what we want on this farm. A ration that will

simply keep a cow or a hen in good health leaves no margin for profit.

Cows and hens are machines, and we must treat them as such. Crowd in the

raw material, and you may look for large results in finished product.

The question ought always to be, How much can a cow eat and drink? not,

How little can she get on with? Grain and forage are to be turned into

milk, and the more of these foods our cows eat, the better we like it.

If these machines work imperfectly, we must get rid of them at once and

at any price. It will not pay to keep a cow that persistently falls

below a high standard. We waste time on her, and the smooth running of

the factory is interrupted. I'm going to place a standard on this farm

of nine thousand pounds a year for each matured cow; I don't think that

too high. If a cow falls much below that amount, she must give place to

a better one, for I'm not making this experiment entirely for my health.

The standard isn't too high, yet it's enough to give a fine profit. It

means at least three hundred and fifty pounds of butter a year, and in

this case the butter means at least thirty cents a pound, or more than

$100 a year for each cow. This is all profit, if one wishes to figure it

by itself, for the skimmed milk will more than pay for the food and

care. But why did you say dehorn the cows?"

"Well, I notice that a man with a club is almost sure to find some use

for it. If he isn't pounding the fence or throwing it at a dog, he's

snipping daisies or knocking the heads off bull-thistles. He's always

doing something with it just because he has it in his hand. It's the

same way with a cow. If she has horns, she'll use them in some way, and

they take her mind off her business. No, sir; a cow will do a lot better

without horns. There's mighty little to distract her attention when her

clubs are gone."

"What breeds of cows have you handled, Thompson?"

"Not any thoroughbreds that I know of; mostly common kinds and grade

Jerseys or Holsteins."

"I'm going to put a small herd of thorough bred Holsteins on the place."

"Why don't you try thoroughbred Jerseys' They'll give as much butter,

and they won't eat more than half as much."

"You don't quite catch my idea, Thompson. I want the cow that will eat

the most, if she is, at the same time, willing to pay for her food. I

mean to raise a lot of food, and I want a home market for it. What comes

from the land must go back to it, or it will grow thin. The Holstein

will eat more than the Jersey, and, while she may not make more butter,

she will give twice as much skimmed milk and furnish more fertilizer to

return to the land. Fresh skimmed milk is a food greatly to be prized by

the factory-farm man; and when we run at full speed, we shall have three

hundred thousand pounds of it to feed.

"I have purchased twenty three-year-old Holstein cows, in calf to

advanced registry bulls, and they are to be delivered to me March 10. I

shall want you to go and fetch them. I also bought a young bull from the

same herd, but not from the same breeding. These twenty-one animals will

cost, by the time they get here, $2200. I shall give the bull to my

neighbor Jackson. He will be proud to have it, and I shall be relieved

of the care of it. Be good to your neighbor, Thompson, if by so doing

you can increase the effectiveness of the factory farm. We will start

the dairy with twenty thoroughbreds and six scrubs. I shall probably buy

and sell from time to time; but of one thing I am certain: if a cow

cannot make our standard, she goes to the butcher, be she mongrel or

thoroughbred. What do you think of Judson as a probable dairyman?"

"I shouldn't wonder if he would do first-rate. He's a quiet fellow, and

cows like that. He has those roans tagging him all over the place; and

if a horse likes a man, it's because he's nice and quiet in his ways. I

notice that he can milk a cow quicker than the other men, and it ain't

because he don't milk dry--I sneaked after him twice. The cow just gives

down for him better than for the others."

The Fat of the Land: The Story of an American Farm · 第 20 / 67 章