A VISIT TO HOUGHTON FARM
Houghton Farm, distant a few miles, is a magnificent estate of about
one thousand acres, and the outbuildings upon it are princely in
comparison with anything I could erect. They had been constructed,
however, on practical and scientific principles, and I hoped that a
visit might suggest to me some useful points. Sound principles might be
applied, in a modest way, to even such a structure as would come within
my means. At any rate, a visit to such a farm would be full of interest
and pleasure. So we dug away at the potatoes, and worked like ants in
gathering them, until we had nearly a hundred bushels stored. As they
were only fifty cents a bushel, I resolved to keep them until the
following winter and spring, when I might need money more than at
present, and also get better prices.
Then, one bright day toward the end of August, we all started, after an
early dinner, for the farm, Junior going with us as usual. We had been
told that the large-minded and liberal owner of this model farm
welcomed visitors, and so we had no doubts as to our reception. Nor
were we disappointed when, having skirted broad, rich fields for some
distance, we turned to the right down a long, wide lane, bordered by
beautiful shrubbery, and leading to the great buildings, which were
numbered conspicuously. We were courteously met by Major Alvord, the
agent in charge of the entire estate. I explained the object of my
visit, and he kindly gave us a few moments, showing us through the
different barns and stables. Our eyes grew large with wonder as we saw
the complete appliances for carrying on an immense stock-farm. The
summer crops had been gathered, and we exclaimed at the hundreds of
tons of hay, fodder, and straw stored in the mows.
"We use a ton of hay daily, after the pasture season is over," remarked
our guide.
When we came to look at the sleek Jersey cows and calves, with their
fawn-like faces, our admiration knew no bounds. We examined the stalls
in which could stand thirty-four cows. Over each was the name of the
occupant, all blood animals of the purest breed, with a pedigree which
might put to shame many newly rich people displaying coats-of-arms. The
children went into ecstasies over the pretty, innocent faces of the
Jersey calves, and Mousie said they were "nice enough to kiss." Then we
were shown the great, thick-necked, black-headed Jersey bull, and could
scarcely believe our ears when told that he, his mother, and six
brothers represented values amounting to about a hundred thousand
dollars.
We next visited a great Norman mare, as big as two ordinary horses, and
the large, clumsy colt at her side; then admired beautiful stallions
with fiery eyes and arching necks; also the superb carriage-horses, and
the sleek, strong work animals. Their stalls were finely finished in
Georgia pine. Soon afterward, Bobsey went wild over the fat little
Essex pigs, black as coals, but making the whitest and sweetest of pork.
"Possess your soul in patience, Bobsey," I said. "With our barn, I am
going to make a sty, and then we will have some pigs."
I had had no good place for them thus far, and felt that we had
attempted enough for beginners. Moreover, I could not endure to keep
pigs in the muddy pens in ordinary use, feeling that we could never eat
the pork produced under such conditions.
The milk-house and dairy were examined, and we thought of the oceans of
milk that had passed through them.
A visit to "Crusoe Island" entertained the children more than anything
else. A mountain stream had been dammed so as to make an island. On the
surrounding waters were fleets of water-fowl, ducks and geese of
various breeds, and, chief in interest, a flock of Canada wild-geese,
domesticated. Here we could look closely at these great wild migrants
that, spring and fall, pass and repass high up in the sky, in flocks,
flying in the form of a harrow or the two sides of a triangle,
meanwhile sending out cries that, in the distance, sound strange and
weird.
Leaving my wife and children admiring these birds and their rustic
houses on the island, I went with Major Alvord to his offices, and saw
the fine scientific appliances for carrying on agricultural experiments
designed to extend the range of accurate and practical knowledge. Not
only was the great farm planted and reaped, blood stock grown and
improved by careful breeding, but, accompanying all this labor, was
maintained a careful system of experiments tending to develop and
establish that supreme science--the successful culture of the soil.
Major Alvord evidently deserved his reputation for doing the work
thoroughly and intelligently, and I was glad to think that there were
men in the land, like the proprietor of Houghton Farm, who are willing
to spend thousands annually in enriching the rural classes by bringing
within their reach the knowledge that is power.
After a visit to the sheep and poultry departments, each occupying a
large farm by itself, we felt that we had seen much to think and talk
over.
It was hard to get Winnie away from the poultry-houses and yards, where
each celebrated breed was kept scrupulously by itself. There were a
thousand hens, besides innumerable young chickens. We were also shown
incubators, which, in spring, hatch little chickens by hundreds.
"Think of fifteen hundred eggs at a sitting, Winnie!" I cried; "that's
quite a contrast to the number that you put under one of your biddies
at home."
"I don't care," replied the child; "we've raised over a hundred
chickens since we began."
"Yes, indeed," I said. "That for you--for you have seen to it all
chiefly--is a greater success than anything here."
I was thoughtful as we drove home, and at last my wife held out a penny.
"No," I said, laughing; "my thoughts shall not cost you even that. What
I have seen to-day has made clearer what I have believed before. There
are two distinct ways of securing success in outdoor work. One is ours,
and the other is after the plan of Houghton Farm. Ours is the only one
possible for us--that of working a small place and performing the
labor, as far as possible, ourselves. If I had played 'boss,' as Bagley
sometimes calls me, and hired the labor which we have done ourselves,
the children meanwhile idle, we should soon come to a disastrous end in
our country experiment. The fact that we have all worked hard, and
wisely, too, in the main, and have employed extra help only when there
was more than we could do, will explain our account-book; that is, the
balance in our favor. I believe that one of the chief causes of failure
on the part of people in our circumstances is, that they employ help to
do what they should have done themselves, and that it doesn't and can't
pay small farmers and fruit-growers to attempt much beyond what they
can take care of, most of the year, with their own hands. Then there's
the other method--that of large capital carrying things on as we have
seen to-day. The farm then becomes like a great factory or mercantile
house. There must be at the head of everything a large organizing brain
capable of introducing and enforcing thorough system, and of skilfully
directing labor and investment, so as to secure the most from the least
outlay. A farm such as we have just seen would be like a bottomless pit
for money in bungling, careless hands."
"I'm content with our own little place and modest ways," said my wife.
"I never wish our affairs to grow so large that we can't talk them over
every night, if so inclined."
"Well," I replied, "I feel as you do. I never should have made a great
merchant in town, and I am content to be a small farmer in the country,
sailing close to shore in snug canvas, with no danger of sudden wreck
keeping me awake nights. The insurance money will be available in a few
days, and we shall begin building at once."
The next day Merton and I cleared away the rest of the debris in and
around the foundations of the barn, and before night the first load of
lumber arrived from the carpenter who had taken the contract.
This forerunner of bustling workmen, and all the mystery of fashioning
crude material into something looking like the plan over which we had
all pored so often, was more interesting to the children than the
construction of Solomon's temple.
"To-morrow the stone-masons come," I said at supper, "and by October we
are promised a new barn."