DELIVERING MILK.
Very little attention is usually paid to carrying milk to the factory.
Too many pour the hot milk into a can standing on a wagon or platform,
in the broiling sun, put on the cover, which fits almost air-tight, as
soon as through, and then haul it in this condition, without any shelter
or protection from the sun's rays, to the factory. It is sometimes drawn
two or three miles in this way. Or, as is often the case, it is left
standing on the platform, covered air-tight, until the milk-wagon comes
along. Whether taken on the wagon at the beginning of the route, or left
standing on the platform at the last end of the route, it broils in the
sun an hour or two, with the animal heat all in it. If drawn a long
distance, it is pretty well churned, in addition, and thus a separation
of the butter takes place which no ingenuity of the cheese-maker can
remedy; but when the result is seen in the cream rising on the whey-vat,
anathemas are heaped on his head. Where the milk stands quiet on the
platform, the cream rises and forms an air-tight covering over the top
of the milk, which soon taints next to the cream. And whether standing
still or riding in a tight can, exposed to the sun's rays, without the
animal heat having been expelled, it is scarcely possible to avoid
taint.
In this way, the manufacturer is furnished with perhaps fifty or
seventy-five messes of milk, all more or less tainted, or at least
progressed in decomposition, whether any offensive odor is perceptible
or not. He has these to cool off and keep over night--often with poor
facilities for cooling--for proprietors of factories are too often
ignorant of the importance of providing ample means for cooling, or are
too eager for large profits on small investments, to furnish them. So
the operator dips and stirs away at the decomposing mass until ten or
eleven o'clock, if not later, and finally yields to "tired nature's
sweet restorer, balmy sleep," to rest his weary muscles and care-worn
brain--exhausted, perhaps, by months of incessant toil seven days every
week. By five the next morning he must be on hand, to receive the
scattering messes of milk. At seven or eight o'clock comes the rush.
Then the messes begin to drop off, and by half-past nine or ten o'clock
the last steaming batch, with an unmistakable rotten-egg smell, makes
its appearance.
Now, what has the cheese-maker got on his hands, some sweltering
morning, during the season when it is "too hot to make butter," and
people kindly draw their dairy liquids to the cheese-factory? Why, on
rising in the morning and rubbing open his eyes, he breaks the cream on
his milk. The under surface has a sickish, sour smell, which tells him
very plainly that it cannot be worked up too soon. But what is he to do?
The answer is plain enough: Run into this fermenting mass an equal
quantity of the same hot stuff which he received the night before! What
will be its condition by the time he gets through? No matter! It is his
business to make cheese of it. He is employed for that purpose. If the
cheese does not prove of the first quality, every patron who furnishes
him stinking milk will have strong suspicions that he does not
understand his business! And some even insist that the cheese-maker
shall pay for all the poor cheese! But any man who is fool enough to
make such an agreement, ought to suffer, at least one season. The
thought of it, however, is almost "enough to make a minister swear."
And, by the way, we have been told of one instance where a minister left
the pulpit and took to the cheese-factory--probably for the purpose of
practically learning a lesson of patience. He was simple-minded enough
to agree to pay for all the poor cheese. He soon found his salary was
not equal to such a demand. So he set himself about watching the
weighing-can, to keep out the bad milk. This was a Herculean task he had
not counted on. We are not informed whether he swore or not; but he
actually took his station outside, with a heavy rod of iron, which he
was compelled to use, on one or two occasions, to keep the patrons from
running rotten milk into the weighing-can! His experience was an
instructive one, and ought to be a warning to all ambitious clergymen,
as well as to innocent-minded cheese-makers!
We do not mean to say, that the patrons of all factories are as bad as
above indicated, nor that they are no better on an average. But we do
mean to say, that too many are very careless, and that almost every
factory has a few patrons whose milk is apt to be in a bad condition
when delivered. Besides, while we hear frequent complaints about bad
milk, we never hear of any one's delivering milk in too good a
condition. Patrons need have no fears of this, and may take it for
granted that they cannot take too much pains with milk, both in point of
cleanliness and of keeping it out of the hot sun and expelling the
animal heat. We should expect to find, if a careful investigation were
made, that the most unsuccessful factories are those where milk is
delivered in the worst condition, while the successful ones are those
where patrons are more careful and the milk received is generally good.
More often depends on the milk than on the cheese-maker. We have heard
it remarked, that "almost anybody can make good cheese of perfectly
sweet milk;" but it is a smart chap indeed who can make good cheese of
poor milk. Every cheese-maker will appreciate our remarks, and we hope
they may not be altogether lost on some patrons.
It will not, as a general thing, pay to draw milk over two or two and a
half miles, for two reasons: First, it consumes too much valuable time,
and next, it churns the milk too much and keeps it too long shut up
tight and exposed to the hot atmosphere, if not the sun. If milk,
however, were thoroughly cooled as soon as milked, and then carried on
easy springs over a smooth road, there is little doubt that it might be
drawn four or five miles without much injury, but the expense would be a
serious objection to going so long a distance.
Cans that hold over a barrel will be found inconvenient. It is better to
use two smaller ones, that can be easily handled, than one very large
one. They will cost but little more, and will last considerably longer,
as the strain on them will be less. A large can is made of the same
material, and is but little if any stronger from additional bracing and
staying, and is liable to spring aleak.
As to the use of faucets, it is generally objected to by cheese-makers,
as too little pains is taken by many to keep them clean. Their use is,
therefore, discarded as far as possible, and we believe cans are
generally made without them. Yet, some factories still continue
receiving milk through conductors, where, of course, faucets are
necessary. They are also a convenience to the patron, in many instances,
where the can may be used for other purposes than holding milk. It is,
therefore, not likely that their use will ever be entirely done away
with. But, if neatly and smoothly put in, and care is observed in
cleaning them, there can be no serious objection to them. Small faucets,
however, should never be tolerated. Nothing smaller than inch-and-a-half
or two-inch faucets should be put in. These are easy to clean, and
greatly facilitate emptying. A small spiteful stream is a nuisance, and
causes a waste of time at the factory door where expedition is what
everybody wants, and is what is needed. If you use a faucet, use a large
one, and keep it scrupulously clean.