OUR SECOND COW.
We soon found that we could not expect to supply our family with
butter from one cow, and we thought that, as we had to perform the
duties of dairy-women, we might as well have the full benefit of our
labor. We, therefore, purchased another cow; but before doing so, were
advised not this time to have Welsh one, but to give more money and
have a larger animal. This we did, and bought a very handsome
strawberry-colored one, for which, with the calf, we gave $75; and
here it will be as well to say that we think it was $25 thrown away,
for in respect did she prove more valuable than the black one, for
which we had given but $50. For a small dairy, we think the black
Welsh cow answers as well, or better, than any other. The price is
very small, and, judging from our own, they are very profitable. They
are also much hardier than those of a larger breed, and may be kept
out all winter, excepting when snow is on the ground.
After our new cow had been in our possession just a week, we received
one morning the unwelcome intelligence that the "new cow" was very
bad. We went into the meadow, and saw the poor creature looking
certainly as we had been told, "very bad." We asked our factotum what
was the matter with her. To this he replied, that he did not know, but
that he had sent for a man who was "very clever in cows."
In a short time this clever man arrived, bringing with him a friend,
likewise learned in cattle. He went to see the patient, and returned
to us looking very profound.
"A bad job!" said he, with a shake of the head worthy of Sheridan's
Lord Burleigh. "A sad job, indeed! and you only bought her last
market-day. Well, it can't be helped."
"But what ails her?" said I.
"What ails her! why, she's got the lung disease."
"But what it is that? said I.
"What's that! why, it's what kills lots of cows; takes 'em off in two
or three days. You must sell her for what she'll fetch. Perhaps you
may get $10 for her. I'll get rid of her for you."
"But," said H., "if she has the 'lung disease' you talk of, you tell
us she must die."
"Yes; she'll die, sure enough."
"Well, then, who will buy a cow that is sure to be dead to-morrow or
next day?"
"Oh, that's no concern of yours! _You_ get rid of her, that's all."
To this dictum we rather demurred, and resolved to send for a
cow-doctor, and see if she could be cured; if not, to take care she
was not converted after her death into "country sausages," for the
benefit of London consumers of those dainties. Our friendly counsellor
was very indignant at our perversity in not getting rid of a cow with
"the lung disease," and stumped out of the yard in a fit of virtuous
indignation. With proper treatment the cow soon got well.
We still had occasional trouble with our butter-making; sometimes it
would come in half an hour, sometimes we were hard at work with the
churn for two or three hours, and then the butter was invariably bad.
We tried to procure information on the subject, and asked several
farmer's wives in the neighborhood "how long butter ought to be in
coming." We always received the same answer:--
"Why, you see, ma'am, that depends."
"Well," we asked, "what does it depend on?"
"Oh, on lots of things."
"Well, tell us some of the things on which it depends."
"Why, you see it's longer coming in hot weather, and it's longer
coming in cold weather; and it depends on how long the cow has calved,
and how you churn, and on lots beside."
We found we must endeavor to discover for ourselves the reason why we
were half an hour in getting it one day, and the next, perhaps, two or
three hours.
As the weather became colder we found it more troublesome, and one
frosty day we churned four hours without success. We put in cold
water, we put in hot we put in salt, we talked of adding vinegar, but
did not; we churned as fast as we could turn the handle, and then as
slowly as possible, but still no butter. At the end of more than four
hours our labors were rewarded. The butter came; strong, rank stuff it
was.
We determined before the next churning day to try and find out the
reason of all this trouble. We once more took to our books, but were
none the wiser, for none of them told us anything about the particular
thing we searched for. After many experiments we tried the effect of
bringing the cream into the kitchen over night, and see if warmth
would make any difference. It was guess-work for two or three
churnings, but the discovery was made at last, that we were always
sure of our butter in half an hour, provided the cream was, when put
into the churn, at a temperature of from 50' to 60'.* [We kept a small
thermometer for the purpose of plunging into the cream-pot. If it was
lower than 55' we waited till it reached that degree: if the weather
was very warm, and it rose higher than we have specified, we did not
attempt to churn till by some means we had lowered it to the proper
temperature.] No matter how long the cow had calved, how hot or how
cold the weather, if we put the cream into the churn at that degree of
heat the butter was sure to come, in as near as possible the time we
have specified.
This, in the winter, was effected by bringing the cream-pot into the
kitchen over night, and if the weather was very cold, placing it on a
chair a moderate distance from the fire for about a quarter of an hour
in the morning: boiling water was likewise put into the churn for half
an hour before it was used.
Now, no doubt, a regular dairymaid would "turn up her nose" at all
these details; but I do not write for those who know their business,
but for the benefit of those ladies who, as is now so much the custom,
reside a few miles from the city or town in which the business or
profession their husbands may be situated. In many cases they take
with them town-bred servants to a country residence; and then, like
ourselves, find they know nothing whatever of the duties required of
them. To those who have several acres of pasture land, of course this
little book is all "bosh." They employ servants who know their work
and perform it properly; but most "suburbans" require the cook to
undertake the duties of the dairy, and unless they are regular country
servants they neither do their work well nor willingly. If any lady
who has one or two cows will instruct her servant to follow our
directions, she will always be sure of good butter, with very little
trouble. All that is required is a churn, milk-pans (at the rate of
three to each cow), a milk-pail, a board (or, better still, a piece of
marble), to make the butter up on, a couple of butter-boards, such as
are used in the shops to roll it into form, and a crock for the cream.
In the next chapter we will give, as concisely as we can, the whole
process that we ourselves used in our dairy.