THE HOLSTEIN MILK MACHINE
During the month of March the teams hauled more gravel. They also
distributed the manure that had been purchased in the fall for mulching
the trees. While the ground was still frozen this mulch was placed near
the trees, to be used as soon as the sun had warmed the earth. The mound
of dirt at the base of each tree was of course levelled down before this
dressing was applied. I never afterward purchased stable or stock-yard
manure, though I could often have used it to advantage; for I did not
think it safe to purchase this kind of fertilizer for a farm where large
numbers of animals are kept. The danger from infection is too great.
Large quantities of barnyard manure were furnished yearly out of my own
pits, and I supplemented it with a good deal of the commercial variety.
I try to turn back to the land each year more than I take from it, but I
do not dare to go to a stock-yard for any part of my supply. It was not
until I had mentally established a quarantine for my hogs that I
realized the danger from those six carloads of manure; and I promised
myself then that no such breach of quarantine should again occur.
The cows arrived on St. Patrick's Day. Our herd was then composed of the
twenty Holstein heifers (coming three years old), and six of the best of
the common cows purchased with the farm. Within forty days the herd was
increased by the addition of twenty-three calves. Twenty-five were born,
but two were dead. Of this number, eighteen were Holsteins eligible for
registration, ten heifers, and eight bulls. Each calf was taken from its
mother on the third day and fed warm skim-milk from a patent feeder
three times a day, all it would drink. When three weeks old, seven of
the Holstein calves and the five from the common cows were sent to
market. They brought $5.25 each above the expense of selling, or $63 for
the bunch. The ten Holstein heifer calves were of course held; and one
bull calf, which had a double cross of Pieterje 2d and Pauline Paul, and
which seemed an unusually fair specimen, was kept for further
development.
The cow barn was finished about April 1st, and shortly after that the
herd was established in permanent quarters. As the dairy-house was
unfinished, and there was no convenient way of disposing of the milk
which now flowed in abundance, I bought a separator (for $200) and sent
the cream to a factory, using the fresh skim-milk for the calves and
young pigs and chickens.
From March 22, when I began to sell, until May 10, when my dairy-house
was in working order, I received $203 for cream. Thompson had sold milk
from the old cows, from August to December, 1895, to the amount of $132.
This item should have been entered on the credit side for the last year,
but as it was not, we will make a note of it here. These are the only
sales of milk and cream made from Four Oaks since I bought the land.
The milk supply from my herd started out at a tremendous rate,
considering the age of the cows. It must be borne in mind that none of
the thoroughbreds was within three years of her (probable) best; yet
they were doing nobly, one going as high as fifty-two pounds of milk in
one day, and none falling below thirty-six as a maximum. The common cows
did nearly as well at first, four of them giving a maximum of thirty-two
pounds each in twenty-four hours. It was easy to see the difference
between the two sorts, however. The old ones had reached maturity and
were doing the best they could; the others were just beginning to
manufacture milk, and were building and regulating their machinery for
that purpose. The Holsteins, though young, were much larger than the old
cows, and were enormous feeders. A third or a half more food passed
their great, coarse mouths than their less aristocratic neighbors could
be coaxed to eat. Food, of course, is the one thing that will make
milk; other things being equal, then the cow that consumes the most food
will produce the most milk. This is the secret of the Holsteins'
wonderful capacity for assimilating enormous quantities of food without
retaining it under their hides in the shape of fat. They have been bred
for centuries with the milk product in view, and they have become
notable machines for that purpose. They are not the cows for people to
keep who have to buy feed in a high market, for they are not easy
keepers in any sense; but for the farmer who raises a lot of grain and
roughage which should be fed at his own door, they are ideal. They will
eat much and return much.
As to feeding for milk, I have followed nearly the same plan through my
whole experiment. I keep an abundance of roughage, usually shredded
corn, before the cows all the time. When it has been picked over
moderately well, it is thrown out for bedding, and fresh fodder is put
in its place. The finer forages, timothy, red-top, clover, alfalfa, and
oat straw, are always cut fine, wetted, and mixed with grain before
feeding. This food is given three times a day in such quantities as will
be eaten in forty-five minutes. Green forage takes the place of dry in
season, and fresh vegetables are served three times a week in winter.
The grain ration is about as follows: By weight, corn and cob meal,
three parts; oatmeal, three parts; bran, three parts; gluten meal, two
parts; linseed meal, one part. The cash outlay for a ton of this mixture
is about $12; this price, of course, does not include corn and oats,
furnished by the farm. A Holstein cow can digest fifteen pounds of this
grain a day. This means about two and a half tons a year, with a cash
outlay of $30 per annum for each head. Fresh water is always given four
times a day, and much of the time the cows have ready access to it. In
cold weather the water is warmed to about 65° F. The cows are let out in
a twenty-acre field for exercise every day, except in case of severe
storms. They are fed forage in the open when the weather is fine and
insects are not troublesome, and they sometimes sleep in the open on hot
nights; but by far the largest part of their time is spent in their own
stalls away from chilling winds and biting flies. In their stables they
are treated much as fine horses are,--well bedded, well groomed, and
well cared for in all ways.
A quiet, darkened stable conduces rumination. Loud talking, shouting, or
laughing are not looked upon with favor in our cow barn. On the other
hand, continuous sounds, if at all melodious, seem to soothe the animals
and increase the milk flow. Judson, who has proved to be our best
herdsman, has a low croon in his mouth all the time. It can hardly be
called a tune, though I believe he has faith in it, but it has a
fetching way with the herd. I have never known him to be quick, sharp,
or loud with the cows. When things go wrong, the crooning ceases. When
it is resumed, all is well in the cow world. The other man, French, who
is an excellent milker, and who stands well with the cows, has a half
hiss, half whistle, such as English stable-boys use, except that it runs
up and down five notes and is lost at each end. The cows like it and
seem to admire French for his accomplishment even more than Judson, for
they follow his movements with evident pleasure expressed in their great
ox eyes.
Rigid rules of cleanliness are carried out in every detail with the
greatest exactness. The house and the animals are cared for all the time
as if on inspection. Before milking, the udders are carefully brushed
and washed, and the milker covers himself entirely with a clean apron.
As each cow is milked, the milker hangs the pail on a spring balance and
registers the exact weight on a blackboard. He then carries the milk
through the door that leads to the dairy-house, and pours it into a tank
on wheels. This ends his responsibility. The dairymaid is then in
charge.