244 
F<‘l)ruiir,v 1<>, 11*1 s 
■ChB RURAL NEW-YORKER 
On a Northern Dairy Farm 
Kahi,y ]{isino. —A rattle of lantern, 
<if stove lids, of milk pails. Surely it is 
not live o’eloek yet and “I sae weary,” 
hut I remember that yesterday was wash¬ 
day. and drowsily wish the earth misht 
roil over bac'kwards and Rive us an¬ 
other nifcht’s rest. Those nights that are 
six months long have some good points. 
A little head bobs up, a little voice com¬ 
mands, “I’ut your arm around me.” and 
the small snuggler whispers, “I’m your 
girl I” She cannot snuggle long, how¬ 
ever. for time has a way of flying at this 
hour in the morning. There is one dis¬ 
advantage of sleeping with an outside 
door open, you must get up and shut it, 
no matter if the temperatiire is at zcwo 
or .'ll) degrees below. Opening the drafts 
of the wood stove and throwing in some 
innpl** Ktif^ks hriiiKs ii fliul 
some degree of warmth to the icj' atmos¬ 
phere. 
llRKAKKAST PuEPARATlON.S. - The 
kitchen range uses coal and is burning 
brightly, the men having opened the 
drafts and put the teakettle on. I he 
tank is full of warm soft water and a 
good scrub (dears away the last cobwebs 
of weariness. Aunt .Tane has already 
luit the oatmeal on and is stirring up 
buckwheat pancakes. Slices of sausage 
are put into a granite jian and slipped 
into the oil stove oven to fry. Sounds 
of hilaritv are heard uiistairs, so we re¬ 
mind the children that breakfast is al¬ 
most ready. 
Food fok C’Ar.vK.s and niTMAXS.—The 
men come in from milking and a couide 
of jiails of milk are run thr.mgh the 
seiiarator in order to have some skiin- 
milk to feed the young Holstein calves. 
At the jiresent price of butter and whole 
milk, skim-milk is worth over a dollar a 
hundred, but where are dairy cattle to 
come from if we do not do our share to 
raise them? ^Milk substitutes may be of 
some use. but nature meant milk for 
A’oung animals and they ought not to be 
deprived of it entirely. Ky this time 
breakfast is ready, and oatmeal and 
cre.amy milk, sausage and pufly brown 
))anc,akes with butter and maple sjiup, 
doughnuts and coffee, with milk for the 
children, disappear with, completeness and 
dispatch. There is bread on the table 
lint very little is eaten. _ At first when 
we tried to save bread, it s<*emed as if 
everyone suddenly dev<‘loped a voracious 
appetite for it. but gradually we are get¬ 
ting used to eating other food. 
The Day’s Wokk Hecixs. —The sun 
rises bright and beautiful over the hill 
as we talk over the jilans for the day. 
Then some one hands father the Hood 
Hook and he reads the day’s lesson and 
leads his family in the daily petition for 
help from above. After that, each one 
turns to his work or iilay. one of the men 
going out to feed the stock and clean tin* 
stables, while the other attends to tilling 
the stoves, starling the engine to pump 
water, and feeding the calves and 
Aunt .Tane goes at the dishes while 
mother puts up lunches for tin* children 
wiio are getting ready for school. 
Stahtixo fok {^rnooF.—Finally the 
last hair-ribbon is tied, the last mitten 
found, and Steve, the four-year-old colt, 
is at the door with the cutti'r. It must 
be confessed that mother and the children 
enjoy these drives to and _ from school 
much more if lireaking colts is part of the 
jirogram. And Steve is so genth*. .so 
willing to do instantly just what he is 
l(dd. as if he realized that he must live 
uj) to the generations of his ancestors 
that we liave owned and loved. ’I’he track 
is heavy this morning—men are alre.ady 
idowing away the snow so that the milk¬ 
man and tlie mailman niay have a ladder 
road. The landscape is so white and 
still that at is a real pleasure to_ see 
a flock (*f snowbirds and some blue jays. 
The New Sciiooe 1>.\w. —This coun¬ 
try school of 20 or more pupils is taught 
bv one of the girls of the community who 
is a high school graduate and has had 
training class work. 'Would we like to 
ji’ivo tins up for m <*onsoli<luto(l ^ school. 
Not under any consideration. This young 
girl, who was valedictorian of a large 
class, is a product of our own commun¬ 
ity and is training our young children as 
we want them trained, and it scimus to me 
that that is the way for a community to 
jjpow—from the ground uji and not from 
some reformer’s experiments. Hut while 
we jmy twice the taxes this year under 
the new biw. this girl receives no higher 
wages than her iiredecessor last year, 
:ind she is hampered in many ways for 
hack of sujiplies. for the clerk of the town 
board of education cannot be called on 
the telephone without paying toll and he 
lives a dozen miles away. 
'PIIE MII.KMAX, with his big gray team 
and load of cans, drives in just as T reach 
home, and our milk is startinl on its six- 
mile trip to the condensery, where we re¬ 
ceive T.eague prices. At the barn the 
men are busy watering stock, cleaning 
stables and drawing manure to the field. 
I wash the separator, attend to baking 
the bread and sort and fold clothes until 
time for dinner, which consists of pota¬ 
toes ami one other vegetable, beef or pork, 
ai^d a very simple des.sert. such as apple 
diimitling. Vice or nnude .syrup. We used 
to depend mostly on apple or mince pies 
for dessert in Winter, but feel that we 
should save the sugar this year. 
The maii.man comes along about half 
past 12 and how we do enjoy the mail! 
We can hardly wait to get the latest 
war news and even Mr. Jigg.s’ affairs 
have to be looked into. Suryly you all 
know Mr. .liggs! The hired man has a 
big jiackage from a mail order house 
and we have a crotchetcy feeling that he 
finds it easier to buy warm clothe.? than 
we do. Hut the feeling passes instantly 
and we are glad that his order came all 
right. A man in a foreign land without 
a family needs every bit of honest ])leas- 
ure that he can get. 
Work in the Woods. —Somewhat re¬ 
luctantly we lay the papers aside until 
evening and turn to duty again. The men 
start for the woods, 'riiis coal shortage 
has caught many of us najiiiing. Labor 
has been scarce and last Winter we could 
not get up the usual year’s sujtiily of 
wood, so now we have to eke out the 
scmewhat meager coal sui)])ly with green 
•wood. 
Fuie.ndi.y Nek; II nous. — After the 
dishes are done, ironing and mending 
occupy the time of the women until half 
))ast three, when one of them must make 
the trip to the schoolhou.se again. The 
neighbor across the way brings the little 
boy, ag<‘d two, over to see our three-year- 
old and the little ones jilay while the 
older ones visit. Truly every farm family 
ought to have a neighbor across the road. 
For 40 year.s the two families have ex¬ 
changed loaves of bread and sittings of 
eggs, work and vebicles, magazines and 
trenches and in the hosjiitals, and can 
only wish better times alnuid for tlu'ni 
all, and resolve anew to hell) If* bring it 
to pass. .MK.S. A. 0. DOKEN. 
St. Lawrence (’o., N. Y. 
Farm Day in Northern New York 
I have been very much interested in 
“A Day on the Dairy Farm.” Hoth Mr. 
Rockwidl's and Mr. Macdonald’s letters 
were of interest. I would like to tell you 
of a day on a farm in Fssex Hounty. New 
York. *Mr. Rockwell’s letter can have no 
bad effect in giving an excuse for farm 
laborers. Why not pay extra for the 
overtime that is worked? This is often 
done in factories. The boys who leave 
the farms, know why they leave. It is 
liecause of the iioor jaiy; not the hard 
work. If we can make our farms pay 
enough so we can afford to pay help what 
they earn, we can get help. 
This is my sclnslule: Arise at five 
o’clock; build two tires; water and h:iy 
three horses; clean stable; get hot water 
and milk for pig, and feed her hay and 
bran; milk three cows; feed eight lu'ad 
of cattle; clean stable; separate milk; 
grain horses; and eat breakfast. It is 
now about 
Feed and water 111 sheep; curry 
horses, i)ut on harness and go for wood. 
The, woodlot is three miles away. I 
■bring home a load of wood ; put team in 
barn; «‘at dinner; fi't'd and water slu'ep 
again ; feed cattle and water them. 
’I’lien get out team and take pulp to 
station, which is about two miles away. 
I jnit up team; (>at supi»er; wat(>r and 
hay team; milk cows; feed cattle; feed 
pig; separjite milk; and Ixsl horses for 
night. It is now eight o'clock. I look 
over the papers and retire'. 
1 have Dulp to draw that will last until 
the first of March. So tlu'se days are to 
\ 
A Day in the Trenches in a Southern Training Camp 
jiolit'ical opininos. Life on the fann 
would be (juite' diflerent without nc'igh- 
bors over the way. 
MESKAliK FHO.M THE Ar.SE.NT ONES.-— 
Soon after four o’clock comes the daily 
telephone call from the children away at 
school in the city. Hig brother tells us 
that he lias begun military training, and 
the two sisters inform us that tln'.v are 
now nn'inbers of one of tht' schotd so¬ 
cieties. part of their initiation consisting 
of Ix'ing oblig<'d to go to school with tlx'ir 
hair done up and wearing yellow })aper 
necktie's and saslx's. A^'ill these childre'ii 
repay the elTorl made to educate tlu'in/ 
■\Ve think so. ’Phey are ke('ping_ account 
of all moix'V paid to them and it is ex- 
pecti'd that‘they will help us tinancially 
if necessary when they begin to earn 
moiM'y tlx'inselves. ’I'hat would not make 
up for the other sacrifices, the long trips 
back and forth each wt'c'k aixl tlx* lack 
of their lielj) at home, but 11*0 one' knows 
bow much care we may lu'ed our.selves 
when we get old. The children an' helj)- 
ful now and we can only trust that they 
will continue to be. 
Sri'i'EU AM) CiiOUES.—The men come 
from the woods with a big load of wood, 
chon's are begun and supper is prepared. 
Haked potatoes, milk giavy, cheese, 
johnny cake, milk and canned fruit or 
ai)i)le saiK'c make uj) the meal. Frostc'd 
cake as getting to be only a memory and 
we seem to live just as well without it. 
After fiupper comes milking and feeding 
again. We p.'ij' from .$(!() to ,$(>.‘1 pc'i' ton 
for dairy feed, oilmeal. etc.; and by our 
last statement from the condensery, re¬ 
ceive .$2.()7 per hundred for milk. lesF! 20 
cents per hundred for hauling. Needless 
to sav we do not fe«'d as miu'li meal as 
we should like. 
Fveninu Pleasitres. —The little folks 
read or j)lay games until half past seven, 
their bedtime. A big dish of apples is 
brought up from the cellar, the i)aper.s 
and magazines are laid out, and for an 
hour or two the family I'evels in warmth 
and a quiet rest. Sometimes the tele- 
l)hone rings and a neighbor passes on a 
bit of news. The full moon is just over 
the hill and not a sound breaks the great 
white stillne.ss as we open the door for 
the night. We think of the suffering 
families in Fiirope, the boys in the 
last :ill Winter. In the Spring when tin' 
litth' liimbs begin to come, manure to 
draw, field to hari-ow. grain to sow. the 
diivs will be busy indeed. 
My wife does not know what it would 
se('n) like 'to arise at I'ight. She is up at 
si.x and retires when I do. We havi' two 
children iind a large house to keep in 
ordc'r. She maki's tlx' butter, cart's tor 
tilt' Ix'iis, gt'ts in wood at night, dot's Ix'r 
papt'ring and |)ainting. Shoultl I bt; ill, 
slie <'t)uld care for sill the live sttx'k. In 
tilt' Spring six' will ht'lp care Itir the 
lambs anti inakt' tlx' gartlen. 
1 wontlt'r ht)W IMr. Macdonaltl makt'S 
his farm pay? 1 am afraitl if he liatl tt) 
run a farm on halvt's he t'ttuld nt>t get 
altmg so ea.sy. In this way wt' ht)i)e to 
t)wn a farm t)f t)ur t)wn stmx' day. 
Essex ('()., N. Y. .m. e. eoiideei.. 
On a Greene Co., N. Y., Farm 
.Vftt'r reading Mr. MactltmaltPs h'tter 
on iiage 12.S, 1 thought perhaps it. might 
interest readt'rs if 1 gave them an ac- 
ct)unt of a Winter day’s wtu-k on my farm 
of 11)0 acre.s sitiiatt'd in (Irt'ent' ('t)unty. 
New York. I do the work nmstly alone 
on this farm, aside from the milking, 
which my wife helps do thrtnigh the 
Summer months, when we have 24 t'tiws. 
At present I am up in the nxirning 
around five ti’cltx'k. 1 ft't'tl the htirses 
and then milk 14 ctiws, ft't'tl five calves 
and .‘50 head of ctiws anti heifers. Wlx'ii 
this is done it is arouixl 7..'5() o’cbx'k : 
then I am rt'ady to feed myself, which T 
certainly can dt) in great shapt*. Attt'r 
breakfast, or abtiut eight o’clock. T have 
the pigs to feed and poultry to care ftir; 
tlx'ii I work at wtxxl until alxnit 11 
o’clock, when it is time to watt'i- stot'k. 
.•Vs my running watt'r six'cumbs tt) tlx' 
t'old ViVather, I have to drive sttx'k about 
a quarter of a mile to a brotik lt> drink. 
I liave to water half of stock at a timt'. 
I clean stables and put hay in their 
mangers while they are drinking. The 
first bunch gets back around 12 t)’clock, 
so T eat my dinner, after which T let 
the next bunch go to drink ; then T haul 
the manure and spread it on the land. 
After each bunch of stock arrives back 
in the barn I spray them to keep them 
free from lice. When this is done it is 
about three o’clock, so I work at wood 
again until four o’clock, when it is time 
to fet'd hay again, which takes until five 
o’clock. 'I'hen 1 am ready for supper at 
r)..‘50. I am then ready to milk again, 
aftt'r which 1 feed grain to stock and 
ciire for the horses. About 7..‘50 I am 
ready to go to the house and take it 
easy iiiilil time, to retire. 1 exchange 
hauling milk with four other farmers, .so 
I do not have to go to creamery so often. 
Of course I have to change this some 
the days I have to go to creamery. 
M. M. 
Would Work for Rockwell 
Reading of a day on a dairy farm in 
latitude 47 degrees, and one in 'rioga 
County, New York. 1 myself would just 
as soon work for Mr. Rix'kwell as Mac¬ 
donald if I had to serve tea to the ladies 
iqistairs. T and a good hand could begin 
work at seven o’clock in the morning and 
(piit at six o’clock at night, and get as 
nnx'h work done as to begin at five o’clock 
and knock oil' work at eight o’l'lock and 
go to bed for two hours’ re.st, then get 
out and work another two-hour .shift, 
then loaf all the afternoon, then work 
another one-hour shift. 1 do not believe 
in making a slave of a woman, but while 
1 was- serving tea up.stairs and making 
porridge 1 could milk about three more 
<'ows. Therefore more income and more 
food for the boys in the trenches. 1 do 
not think it would be much more work 
for women to get breakfast than it would 
be to clean that kitchen. As for a hired 
man coming on the job for me at eight 
o’clock in the morning, then' is nothing 
doing. In these days of war I respect 
.Mrs. Rockwell and her husband, as they 
are doing their bit. and doing it well, 
and .‘IS a liired hand T would just as soon 
work for Rockwell, as he has some sys- 
ti'in, and that is what counts on a dairy 
farm. F. 0 . m’peek. 
Knox Co., O. 
Caring for the Kitchen Floor 
T would like to know what kind of 
finish to juit on kitchen floor, hard wood, 
to make it easier to care for. We found 
it in very bad condition six years ago. 
It was scrubbed with brush, soap and 
cb'.'ining iiowder, and 24 hoiir.s later oiled, 
using linsc'cd oil. turpentine and drier, I 
think. That seemed not quite satisfac¬ 
tory, and has never been rejieated. The 
floor i.s rather dark, some boards arc' 
rough, and as soon as dry looks as though 
it nec'dc'd moi)j)ing again. Some tell nx* 
hot suds will make more boiirds rough 
and otlx'i'wise Injure the floor. T read of 
using cold wafc'r and washing soda, but 
cannot see any noticeably good effect 
from that. In Winter the family wash¬ 
ing is done in kitclx'ii and the sc'par.'itor 
and milking machine* waslx'd there. 
Vc'rmont. 0. E. w. 
From the text-book usc'd in a School of 
Home* Economics, Ic't me (|uot)' the fol¬ 
lowing : 
“No entirc'ly satisfactory finish for tlx* 
kitchen floor has yc't Ix'c'ii^ found. The 
time-hoiiorc'd way of scrubbing with soap 
.'ind water imikc's the whitc'st and cleiiix'st 
looking flooi'. it is true, but the work 
requiri'd ! It d es not sc'c'm to be an c'co- 
nomic <*ondilion to have tlx* floor of tlx* 
workshop such that nothing may fall 
iilion it. Linseed oil, frecpic'iitly atijilic'd, 
imikc's a finish in every way gcxid if it 
wc'i'C' not for the unsightly diirkc'uing. 
Wlx'ii the wood is thoroughly filled with 
oil. nothing will make a s])ot on such a 
floor, not. c'ven grease. Tt may lx* wiped 
UJ) wilh a wc't cloth but should not be 
scrublx'd wilh soap and water.” 
You have the same probb'in wilh 
which many a woman is- struggling. One 
farmer's wife* locjilly has tric'd varnish, 
shellac' and otlx'r finislx's and iirefers to 
scrub lic'r floor, six* dislikes to darken it 
with oil. ’Phe fact remains that the oil 
finish is bc*st for ixintric's, halls and 
kite-hens, but much depends on the kind of 
oil used and the frc'quency with which 
you use it. .Vfic'r years of struggling to 
iic'c'p a v.'irnishecl floor looking decent aixl 
have it varnishc'd wlx'ii ix'c'dc'd and sii.irc* 
tlx* room long enough for the varnish to 
dry proiic'i'ly. my sister rebc'lled. Wluit 
was left of the varnish was removc'd and 
tlie floor was oilc'd with a iirejiarc'd oil. 
.Vny good department store will siipjily it 
by the gallon, and an oil inop to put it on 
wilii. .lust i)our sonx* oil out into an old 
I)ic' tin. clip the mop and rub into your 
floor all tlx* oil it will st.nxi. Once in 
two or three wc'c'ks repc'at the iiroc'c'ss. 
or if water spatters and takc's out tlx* oil 
from any spot, rub that iilac'e with your 
oily moj). 
This is a minc'ral oil of some sort and 
lasts well. You c'an get from mail order 
house's !it .$1.:50 a gallon !i similar floor 
oil that will stiind scrubbing, if nc'ces- 
sary. Or thc*y have a “fifteen minute 
floor finish” for sc-liools, cluirc'hes, storc'.s, 
resicleix'es or anywhere that floors must 
stand hard use. This cannot be put on 
over an old finish. This is the same iiric'c* 
as the floor oil. Patc*r, sent to buy oil 
for home use, chc'erfully bought the first 
thing he .saw, oil for store and factory 
use. However, Ibis is giving good .satis¬ 
faction and wlx'ii the housekc'eper care- 
Ic'sslv dumpc'cl !i pail of hot water into 
the washing mac-bine with the stopiier 
ont. the* floor was not hurt. A little* at¬ 
tention with the oil mop smoii made it all 
right, and our floor trouble's arc* ovc*r. 
You would nc'c'd to have the rough 
boards saneb'd so as to be .smcioth, and 
apply several light coats of oil a few 
(lays apart, until your floor boards an- 
lilh'd with oil. You can add a little kc'ro- 
sene to tlb* warm water with which you 
scrub and lessen your labors, too, in that 
^vav. EDNA H. KNAl’l*. 
