1902 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
4i5 
MAPES, THE HEN MAN. 
Dark and Bright Pictures. 
DEAD CHICKENS.—“You must take the bitter 
with the sweet,” is an adage w'hich holds true no less 
in the chicken business than in other walks in life. 
It seems as though a goodly portion of the “bitter” 
has got into our cup recently, in connection with the 
brooder chicks. I wonder whether others have had a 
similar experience? If so, there will be a kindred 
feeling. All at once we began to find a good many 
dead chicks under the brooders in the morning, often 
two and three in each brooder. In looking about for 
a cause I started out with my thermometer one even¬ 
ing, and found that under some of the brooders it 
would run up to 110 degrees, a couple of inches above 
the floors. Here was a cause with a vengeance. I re¬ 
called at once an experience I had along this line a 
couple of years ago. 
ROASTED HENS.—One hot day in Summer our 
hens were left shut up in the houses all day. My in¬ 
tention had been in the morning to leave them shut 
up till noon, and then let them out. I went off to 
town, however, and forgot to leave any word to that 
effect. I was unexpectedly detained in town until 
nearly night. When I started out to gather the eggs 
at night I saw at once that there was trouble on hand. 
It had been an unusually hot day, with the thermom¬ 
eter close to 100 degrees in the shade, and those hen¬ 
houses were like ovens. Many of the hens were dead, 
and others were dying from the effects of the heat. 
I dropped my egg baskets and started on a run to get 
them out into the fresh air. Some of the flocks were 
affected more than others. Those that had bushes 
growing about the houses, interfering with the move¬ 
ment of what little wind there was stirring, seemed 
to be the worst. Some were dead, and others had lost 
the use of their legs. I carried all such out and 
placed them in the coolest spots I could find, but to 
no avail. They were mostly dead next morning. 
When I first discovered them their eyes were still 
bright, but they seemed to be paralyzed, and could 
neither stand nor walk. Those houses all had an open 
window on the south side, and an open door on the 
north side (with wire screens), and it is not likely 
that the heat from the sun made them any warmer 
than 110 degrees. Still it was hot enough to kill the 
hens. I know of a man who put a steam radiator in 
his hennery in Winter, and killed all his hens with 
kindness. r lne first morning after turning on the 
steam he found his whole flock of 60 hens dead. He 
had overcome them with heat. If mature hens can 
thus easily be killed with too much heat is it any 
wonder that our brooder chicks are sometimes killed 
in the same way? Speed the day of the practical self¬ 
regulating brooder. In my own case, however, the 
lamps were already turned as low as was consistent 
with perfect combustion, so I removed some -of the 
hover cloths, thus allowing surplus heat to escape. 
CHILLED CHICKS.—“I thought you said chicks 
knew enough to move out when it got too hot 
for them if they are given the chance?” So I 
did. If there had only been a few chicks in 
each brooder there would have been no trou¬ 
ble, I think. With 90 to 100, however, in each 
brooder, it is likely that those on the edges 
were comfortable, while a few in the middle, 
where the heat was greatest, could not get out, 
and consequently perished. Right on top of 
this came the cold wave and frost of May 27, 
with more of the “bitter” in the other direc¬ 
tion. Five hundred of our oldest chicks have 
been removed from the large brooder house 
to the small or colony brooder houses, 100 in 
each house. These weigh a pound each, and 
are supposed to be too big to need artificial 
heat. Many of them had already begun to use 
the perches above the brooders. It was cold 
last night, however, and instead of taking to 
the perches as usual, they went down on top 
of the brooders again. In one house I found fully 200 
of them huddling to keep warm. They had come in 
from the other houses 20 feet distant. When I found 
them, about 8 P. M., 40 were already dead in the bot¬ 
tom of the heap. The space under the hover board 
was packed full (there was no lamp burning), and 
these were all right. Those sitting on top of the 
hover were also all right, as were those on the floor 
in front. Those on the floor of the brooder, however, 
between the hover and back of brooder, had been suf¬ 
focated. All the dead ones were found in this one 
spot. I have frequently had chicks of this size smoth¬ 
er, and nearly always in some box or corner where 
they could not get out or help themselves, when more 
chicks would pile on top of them. It is the “under 
chick” like the “under dog” that suffers. 
SKIM-MILK.—The mate to Billy Gormand, of 
which I spoke last week, that is being fed all the 
grain she will eat, but no milk, has just held her own 
for the first, week. She weighed 33 pounds May 23, 
and only 33 pounds May 30, having eaten nine pounds 
of feed. It is pleasanter to turn from these dark- 
tinted subjects to the egg baskets, which still come up 
every night well filled (about 800) or to Billy Gor¬ 
mand, who has balanced his own ration from corn 
and skim-milk, and made a growth of 13 pounds 
again in a week. The rate at which he is converting 
feed into pork should open the eyes of those who 
have separator skim-milk to dispose of. He used 15 
pounds of corn and 60 quarts of skim-milk to make 
this last 13 pounds of growth, which is worth 91 cents 
at the market rate of seven cents per pound. The 15 
pounds of corn only cost 21 cents, leaving 70 cents 
for the 60 quarts of milk. How many farmers are 
selling their pure milk for only a trifle more than 
this! Readers will pardon me for attaching so much 
importance to the value of skim-milk as a food for 
AYRSHIRE COW PRINCESS ALICE 2n. Fie. 164. 
hens and pigs, but I believe that its value, when prop¬ 
erly used, has not been fully appreciated. 
INCOME FROM HENS.—I often receive questions 
like the following: 
I am enjoying the notes from Mr. Mapes in The R. 
N.-Y. I would like him to tell us, some time, about what 
the income from 500 hens would be per year; cost of 
starting; how many acres necessary, how much feed. 
Washington, D. C. w. h. h. 
When I started in the poultry business 10 years ago 
I had a well-defined idea of what could be done with 
hens. This was published in Tiif R. N.-Y., I think in 
October, 1892. I have not preserved a copy, but from 
memory should say that I did not overshoot the mark 
in a single important particular. I reasoned that one 
feeder could take care of 2,000 hens; that they could 
be made to lay 100 eggs each, that would sell for 
enough to pay for the feed used, and leave $1 profit 
on each hen. I allowed $1 per hen for cost of build¬ 
ings. I ran right into the low prices of 1893, 1894, 
1895 and 1896, and did not realize my dollar-per-hen 
profit some years, but aside from that my calculations 
proved to be correct. If I should now shut my eyes 
and see a vision of a 100-acre farm containing one 
foreman and five assistants, with 10,000 hens that lay 
150 eggs each per year, and sell for $2 profit per hen 
above cost of feed, the editor would possibly be justi¬ 
fied if he roused me with a stroke of his blue pencil. 
O. W. MAPES. 
MR. STRINGFELLOW ON COVER CROPS. 
In Mr. Hitchings’s recent reply to Mr. Woodward 
he strikes the keynote to successful fruit growing, 
viz., make the orchard self-sustaining. Of course on 
wornout soils for a few years it will pay well to push 
growth with manure of some kind, but after trees 
begin to bear and become large enough to furnish a 
good crop of leaves, if a mowed sod is left to retain 
them where they fall, any further fertilizing is un¬ 
natural and unnecessary. As Mr. Hitchings remarks, 
science tells us that the bulk of all soils is lime, pot¬ 
ash, phosphoric acid, nitrogen and iron, but to pre¬ 
vent loss by leaching through the subsoil or waste 
from the surface in flooding rains, Nature has wisely 
locked them up to a great extent in an insoluble form. 
But in her further wisdom she has furnished us a 
key in the shape of humus to unlock this fertility, by 
means of which all natural plant and tree growth has 
been made, and is sustained in health and vigor from 
year to year, without the aid of man. If we will but 
imitate her methods and leave the grass and leaves 
where they fall, and the little surface hair roots un¬ 
disturbed to appropriate the plant food that is con¬ 
tinually being rendered soluble by the decaying vege¬ 
table matter, we need not bother to go down into our 
pockets to pay for fertilizers, besides saving the cost 
of cultivation. On this point the scientists are now 
plainly wavering. A few years ago they taught ab¬ 
solute clean culture all the season. Now they say 
clean culture until Summer, then a cover crop. This 
might do for early varieties which have matured 
their crops, but surely if clean culture is ever a good 
thing it ought to be most beneficial when the trees 
are under the greatest strain, which in the case of the 
largest and most valuable fruit crop of the country, 
late apples, is just when the professors would have us 
plant cow peas or other cover crops to compete with 
the trees for food and moisture. The peavines would 
undoubtedly be of great benefit the following year, 
but will it not be at the expense of the present crop 
of fruit, especially if the Summer and Fall be dry? 
H. M. STRINGFELLOW. 
DOES THE BOY HAVE A CHANCE? 
Why the boy leaves the farm is a mooted question, 
especially when there seem to be unusual opportuni¬ 
ties for success, and the parents are anxious that 
their boys should stay on the farm. From rather care¬ 
ful observation for a number of years, and talks with 
a good many young men, a number of whom have had 
agricultural education, it is my firm conviction that 
often the parents themselves are to blame, without 
realizing it. As one grows older in years and often 
not in robust health, we are apt to become very con¬ 
servative, and to get into a rut without knowing it. 
Anxious to have the boys do well we give them as 
good an education as possible, often including the 
agricultural college or one of the shorter courses. The 
boy goes away, mingles with others, picks up many 
new ideas, gets interested in other lines of agricul¬ 
ture, and sees, or thinks he sees, wherein his folks 
are not doing as well as they might, or new lines that 
might be added with good profit. He comes home full 
of enthusiasm, and an ambition to make his mark in 
the business. He suggests gradually new ideas, but 
here’s where the trouble begins. The father is get¬ 
ting along in years; has lost some of his early enthu¬ 
siasm; sees only the dark side; thinks only of the ex¬ 
pense that new methods would entail. He’s got along 
so far without all these new things; why can’t the 
boy be content to follow in his footsteps? He has 
done fairly well; the farm is paid for, and everything 
is in good shape. He doesn’t need a separator, and 
all the figuring that could be done to show the in¬ 
creased value of the cream wouldn’t convince 
him. Silo is perhaps a good thing, but our 
cows do pretty well, and if you get a silo that 
means we must plow up a lot of land every 
year, and either buy a cutting outfit or hire 
one. All this looks twice its normal size to 
him. To the boy they are plain roads to more 
profitable farming. The father doesn’t always 
realize that times are constantly changing, 
and one must keep up with the procession. 
The boy is in favor of trying small fields of 
cow peas, Soy beans and Alfalfa, in order to 
grow more protein on the farm. The father 
doesn’t understand very definitely what pro¬ 
tein is. He would rather keep on raising Tim¬ 
othy with a little clover in it. The boy ex¬ 
plains about protein and its value in feeding, 
but the father has always done fairly well 
with hay, corn fodder and cornmeal. He 
doesn’t realize that he might have done much 
better with a better class of foods. The boy perhaps 
sees a chance to make some money by growing new 
varieties of potatoes and selling them for seed, but 
some of these new varieties might cost $10 a barrel! 
“Why buy a lot of kinds that might not do well when 
we’ve got a lot of potatoes in the cellar that are prob¬ 
ably better than you can buy?” the father says. The 
father opposes the weeder. “Why, it’ll tear up every¬ 
thing.” He has always planted his corn by hand, and 
would be afraid to trust his corn crop to a planter. 
As for a potato planter they never could plant them 
to suit him, though it did the work perfectly and 
faster than 10 men could do it. The boy keeps push¬ 
ing for new things and better methods. Once in a 
while he makes a mistake, which is harped on when¬ 
ever a new plan is proposed. The boy gets sick of 
forever being opposed, and scarcely ever being able to 
do things better or to try new ways. He begins to 
dislike the old farm; later to hate It, and looks for 
work in the town or city. If the father, instead of 
opposing every new project, had counseled with the 
boy, and tried to see things from his point of view 
occasionally, some of tne new things might have ap¬ 
peared on the farm, new and better methods employ¬ 
ed, and an increased profit gained. h. q. m. 
A PAIR OF AYRSHIRE HEIFERS. Fig. 165. 
