576 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER. 
August 29 
Jacket fruit can hang on the bushes for a long time. 
Few gooseberries are eaten ripe. As I understand 
the matter, gooseberries for market and canning fac¬ 
tories are all picked while green, and most of them, 
if ripe, would be unsalable exeept in very small lots. 
For cooking purposes, the sweetest gooseberries 
would be least desirable. We have been informed by 
many women that, for cooking, preserving, etc., the 
Red Jacket gooseberry is best. I do not presume 
that it will prove best every year in every locality 
under the sun, neither does the Fay currant; but the 
fact is evident that the Fay is now the standard red 
currant, because our experience and that of many other 
currant plant growers is that we grow more Fays than 
all other varieties combined. Most of the Fay plants 
are sold to practical fruit growers, and the fact that 
I have paid the Fay heirs over $40,000 as their share 
from the sales of Fay plants, seems to me substantial 
evidence of its excellence. geo. s. josselyn. 
A COW DIALOGUE. 
[ Old Spot and Old Brin Discuss the Milking Question.] 
Old Spot: “How do you like the new man that 
master has just hired ? ” 
Old Brin : “ 1 don’t like to have him milk me one 
bit. He’s too rough. When he sits down to milk me, 
he grabs hold of my teats and jerks and yanks as 
though he were trying to pull them off. And then, 
too, his finger nails are long and sharp, and they cut 
into the sides of my teats and hurt me.” 
Old Spot: “ What do you do when a milker hurts 
you ? ” 
Old Brin : “ I switch my tail nervously awhile, and 
then stand around away from him. I tried that with 
him ; but it was no use, and when he grabbed hold so 
roughly and hurt me again, I just kicked him and the 
milk pail over.” 
Old Spot: “Good enough for him! Served him 
right! What did he do then ? ” 
Old Brin : “ He jumped up and yelled and swore at 
me awfully, and kicked me in the ribs with his heavy 
boots, and pounded me over the back with his big 
wooden stool. I am as sore and lame as can be, and 
I know that I shall not be able to give my regular 
mess of milk for several days !” 
Old Spot: “How different that is from the way 
master does !” 
Old Brin : “ Yes, to be sure it is ! When master sits 
down to milk me, he speaks kindly to me, and then 
takes hold of my teats gently and handles them over 
carefully before he begins to squeeze the milk out. 
He brushes off my udder, and then begins, gradually, 
to draw the milk. Under such gentle treatment, I 
can feel my milk running toward the outlets, and my 
teats just swell right out to almost bursting fullness. 
It is a pleasure to give down all my milk to master. 
He doesn’t work his elbows up and down with a yank 
as though he were pumping.” 
Old Spot: “ You speak of giving down your milk 
readily and willingly to master ! Can you hold up 
your milk when you want to ? ” 
Old Brin : “ Yes, indeed, I can ! It isn’t very often 
that I want to, but there are times when I want to 
hold up my milk, and then I can do it. When that 
new man kicked me on the under side with his hard¬ 
toed boots, and pounded me over the back with his 
heavy wooden stool, I just held up my milk of my 
own will. 1 was determined that he should not get 
another drop out of me at that milking; and he didn’t, 
either, though he had not got half my regular mess.” 
Old Spot: “ I overheard some men say, the other 
day, that we cows cannot hold up our milk when we 
please.” 
Old Brin : “ That is all theory and nonsense ! Under 
cruel, rough treatment, I always draw up the muscles 
and ligaments all along my under side, especially 
around my udder. This prevents any inflow of milk 
into the regular channels, and so none comes out. 
Under kind and gentle treatment, I can let it down 
in a little while. But if I hold it up a long time, it 
will stay up in spite of me.” 
Old Spot: “I wish that all men understood how to 
milk as well as master does.” 
Old Brin : “I do, too! If all milkers understood 
how to milk a cow as well as master does, there 
would be more milk and less ‘kicking.’ If they 
would speak kindly when they approach us, and sit 
down and carefully brush off the udder, and work 
the teats with gentle pressure a little before trying 
to start the milk, it would be as we cows would like 
to have it. Under such kindly touches, the milk is 
readily responsive, and runs quickly in its channels 
to the proper outlet. And then, if they would remem¬ 
ber not to jerk and yank so hard as though they 
were trying to pull something out by the roots, it 
would be much more agreeable. I don’t like to be 
yelled at, either, every time I switch my tail! And if 
every dairyman would do as master does during the 
troublesome fly season—put us in the stable about 20 
minutes before milking time, and close the doors and 
darken the windows—there would be less switching 
of tails to annoy the milker, and more milk, besides !” 
Old Spot: “Yes, it does seem so good ! In the 
darkened stable, the flies soon settle away from us, 
and go into the nooks and crannies of the walls. 
Then, when master comes out and opens the doors 
and lightens the stable, the flies do not return to 
annoy us both. I wish that all milkers were like our 
kind master.” 
Old Brin : “Yes, yes ! Master is very kind, and I 
know that, under such treatment as he always gives 
me, I can and do * give down ’ from a pint to a quart 
more milk than I do when treated roughly or spoken 
to harshly.” a. r. fhillips. 
HOW TO MAKE CIDER JELLY. 
A NEW VALUE FROM APPLE POMACE. 
How and from What It Is Made. 
Within a radius of 15 miles, I know of, at least, 
eight cider mills ; there may be even more than this 
number. Every season, after cidermaking is over, a 
huge pile of pomace may be seen at each one of them, 
slowly rotting away, polluting the atmosphere, to the 
annoyance of neighbors in particular, and passers-by 
in general. No doubt, the same conditions exist all 
over the United States. Is it possible that the owners 
of these enterprises are ignorant of the money value 
these piles of pomace contain ? Or are they too shift¬ 
less to go about extracting the value from them ? At 
a mill in my neighborhood, I, with another man, for 
the first time, made cider jelly three years ago. We 
made it for one-third, the owner getting two-thirds, 
we doing all the work, and he furnishing everything. 
It is made in the following manner : 
During the day, all the pomace is thrown into a pile 
in a corner of the mill; in the evening, after the 
cidermakers quit work, we take possession and work 
over the pomace by shoveling into a vat, enough of it 
to make a good-sized cheese. About 125 gallons of 
water are poured carefully all over it, and it is left 
to soak about one-half hour. We then shovel it on 
the press, and press in the same way as for cider. The 
juice received we boil down to the proper consistency, 
so as to jelly when cold. While the boiling is in 
progress, another cheese is put on the press, and so on 
until all the pomace is worked up. Nothing is used 
except pomace, water and labor. Very simple, is it 
not ? 
The results from one cheese are all the way from 8 
to 13 gallons of jelly. A cheese from sweet-apple 
pomace, yields more than one from sour apples. We 
have a ready sale for all of it at 75 cents per gallon. 
Our biggest night’s work was 75 gallons; this, at 75 
cents per gallon, amounts to $5(5.25. Think of it! 
One day’s pomace at one mill, made this. What a vast 
sum is annually lost! Neither is this all ! A cheese 
soaked in a similar way the second time, produced 
five gallons more of jelly, and it is my opinion that, 
if this pomace were ground finer before being soaked, 
considerable more jelly might be extracted. 
For what may this jelly be used ? Jack Frost at¬ 
tended to the apple crop in this locality last year, and 
not a homegrown apple was to be found. However, 
a good many were shipped in, and we bought a num¬ 
ber of barrels ; some rotted badly and wife went over 
them, picking them over and those partially decayed 
were cut out and used in making apple butter. Some 
of this jelly is put into a small, brass kettle, to which 
are added the apples and spices, and in a very short 
time, a kettle of the finest apple butter is produced 
right on the cook stove from products that would, 
otherwise, have been a total loss. In the absence of 
apples, we have used pumpkins as a substitute, a 
little more of the jelly being required in this case, 
and indeed, it cannot be told, from the other. To 
give mince pie a snap, as some call it, nothing will 
answer any better. For jelly cake or jelly roll, no 
other jelly can come up to it, because of its peculiar, 
acid flavor. I introduced it in bakeshops for this 
purpose, and last year, sold at one bakery, 07 gallons, 
and they want no other when they can get this. A 
little may be melted and put into drinking water in 
summer; it quenches thirst better than anything I 
know, without pouring down so much water. It is not 
an intoxicant. By adding a little sugar to the jelly, 
it may be used on the table like any other jelly, or in 
any form in which other jellies are used. 
Two years ago, about 15 gallons were left standing 
in the mill in a stone crock, with no cover. It was 
exposed all winter, to freezing and thawing alter¬ 
nately; all the summer following, it was exposed again 
to the heat, and last fall was as sweet and nice as 
when first put up. It keeps indefinitely without 
even proper care. While this might prove a bonanza 
for the cider mill man, where does the farmer’s share 
come in ? The pomace is the property of the man 
that brings the apples; he may take it away or leave 
it at his option ; this the cider maker recognizes, and 
will make up the jelly for 25 cents per gallon for 
any one that desires it; thus one will get cheap, a 
valuable product that, heretofore, has been a total 
loss. 
It seems that all kinds of stock will eat this pom¬ 
ace, and will eat more of it and thrive on it better, 
when the jelly is extracted than when it is left in. 
A wealthy neighbor farmer hauls, every morning, of 
this pomace, and scatters it thinly over the pasture 
belonging to the mill owner for his stock to eat, for 
the privilege of getting half of it for his own stock. 
A sleeker lot of cattle one doesn’t see anywhere, than 
those after the cidermaking is over; this abolishes 
a nuisance in a very profitable way. j. Bollinger. 
Ohio. 
AN ICE HOUSE AND COLD STORAGE. 
I would like to build a cheap ice house, to hold 12 to 14 two-horse 
loads, and would like to have a room 5(4 feet high and eight feet 
square below the ice for milk and butter, in fact, a cold storage 
room. How should this be built so as to economize in space and 
cost ? I could build it by having it partly in the ground. I have 
the timber, and expect to do most of the work. Could I have it 
built so as to have ice around the room, as well as above ? 
Brandywine Manor, Pa. e. r. g. 
Ice House for a Dairy. 
If the ice house can be built upon a sidehill, I 
would plan to have one side and part of two adjacent 
sides under ground. I would have the cool-room door 
on the lower side, the ice-house door on the upper, 
and plan to have gravity put the ice to as high a point 
as is needed in the ice house. Handling ice is hard 
work, and I would, if possible, avoid lifting it. About 
800 cubic feet of ice space will be needed to hold 20 
tons. This, with an allowance for air space, packing 
aud cool room, will require a building about 10x12x16 
feet. I would use 2 x 6 studding, and board both in¬ 
side and out tight, with matched lumber, or if rough 
boards are plenty, would use them and a good water¬ 
proof paper. This will give a six-inch air space, and 
assist materially in keeping the ice. For flooring 
over the cool room, I would use two-inch chestnut 
plank, caulking well with oakum, or double-board 
with matched spruce or white pine. It will pay to 
coat well the floor and sides with coal tar. I do not 
think it practicable to try to pack ice around the 
room, as such a small quantity of ice will keep much 
better in one mass. When ice is packed on floors of 
different levels, air is likely to get in and waste ice 
badly. We have tried it. We find that ice keeps best 
when put in one mass, filling the cracks with snow 
(or sawdust if snow cannot be had), allowing a foot at 
the sides for sawdust and a good coating of the same 
on top. By examining the ice through the season, 
and filling up an occasional hole that may form, it 
will keep quite well. The floor may drip a little, but 
I know of no practicable way to avoid this without 
using the patented processes. Build double doors to 
the cool room, and avoid tar there, or anything that 
can possibly taint milk or butter. If it become 
musty or at all moldy, a coat of whitewash will 
sweeten things immensely. On any farm, a cool room 
will be found very convenient and profitable for keep¬ 
ing, for a few days, many things besides milk and 
butter. H. G. MANCHESTER. 
Connecticut. 
Cold Room on a Fruit Farm, 
In building a small and cheap ice house and cold 
storage room, the same general principles must be 
observed as in building the larger and more expensive 
structures In fact, additional care should be taken, 
because the percentage of waste is greater in a small 
than in a large body of ice. It is absolutely necessary 
that the ice house be made air-tight, so that, by no 
possibility, an outside current of air can reach the 
ice ; that there be perfect drainage at the bottom, 
and that there be provision for ventilation over the 
ice. I think that it would be of no advantage to build 
it partly under ground. A site should be chosen that 
is shaded by trees or other buildings the greater part 
of the day. 
Drainage. —If the soil is gravelly or sandy to the 
depth of four or five feet, all that will be needed is to 
fill under the ice house and chill room small stones to 
the depth of a foot or more. If the ground is clayey, 
more care is necessary. A cement floor on broken 
stones should be made under the entire building. 
This should slope to a corner, and a small sink be put 
in the floor at that point. A lead pipe should be 
attached to the sink and carried down so as to be bent 
upward four or five inches U-shape before it leads 
away from the building. This bend will keep filled 
with water and effectually prevent the entrance of 
outside air. At the end of the pipe, a hole should be 
