910 
June 21, 1924 
The RURAL NEW-YORKER 
Thirteen Years on a Farm 
Part IV * 
Another Summer. —That Summer of 
1915 I will pass over briefly. Besides 
the regular farm work we remodeled the 
house, making it much more convenient 
and comfortable. Bill did all the work, 
for we could not afford to hire it done. 
I helped where I could and often held 
the lamp or lantern for him until he 
could finish something at night. He put 
in all new windows, double-boarded and 
put on new clapboards, built a new porch, 
made a cement wall around the house, 
built a new chimney, changed the parti¬ 
tions to make the rooms more what we 
wanted, lathed, plastered and papered, 
painted inside and outside, and really 
made it look “just right” to us. It was 
quite an expensive Summer and there 
were several things we had counted on 
having that we had to do without, be¬ 
cause we did not dare add another item 
to that bill. One was the bathroom. If 
we had known in time, we would have 
put in the bathroom instead of the light¬ 
ing plant, but that was already installed 
before the rooms were finished. We were 
more than thankful to have the house 
waftp fand comfortable that Winter, how¬ 
ever and, after those other shivering 
Winters, we appreciated it more than 
ever. 
A Winter Guest. —One thing which 
helped us at that time to a better enjoy¬ 
ment of the long Winter evenings, was 
the addition to our family circle of Bill’s 
youngest brother, one of the liveliest 
young optimists I ever knew. He came 
in December and went back to his work 
th£ first of April, so he was with us un¬ 
til it he. last of sugaring, lie helped to 
cut wood and do the barn chores, and 
seemed to like to stay on the farm. We 
trixjd to make it pleasant for him, and 
probably went out to the parties and 
neighborhood affairs more on his ac¬ 
count ; but we surely enjoyed it all our¬ 
selves. After that first Winter he was 
always looking forward to December and 
coming again. Perhaps the fact that 
one of our neighbor's girls was also wait¬ 
ing for December to bring him back, 
might have made some difference, but we 
were all glad to welcome him. 
Trying to Catch Up. —We were still 
trying very hard to “catch up” during 
1916-17; at least we made ourselves 
think we were doing our very best at it. 
We tried raising some potatoes for mar¬ 
ket. We could raise mighty fine pota¬ 
toes, but the marketing end of it bothered 
us. The trip to the city was too much 
for the horses, and those city buyers al¬ 
ways seemed to know when a load could 
be bought cheap because a farmer had a 
long drive to get home to milk. So there 
we were! If we hired the help to mar¬ 
ket our crop successfully, it would cut 
down the profit until there was nothing 
in it. We were getting rather desperate 
about the situation. The big milk com¬ 
panies were cutting the price of milk 
until there was less and less of a margin 
between the actual cost of production and 
our milk checks, and if we had the least 
bit of bad luck there was a loss instead 
of a profit. The grain dealers kept 
mighty good watch of the milk prices too. 
One day when Bill drew the milk to the 
local plant he noticed a raise of 10 cents 
a hundred on milk ; when he drove in and 
read the price of cow feed at the mill, it 
had also advanced 10 cents a hundred! 
The farmers handled more money, but 
the miller got the “raise.” The Dairy¬ 
men’s League was organized and brought 
us many good ideas which helped; they 
showed us just what we were fighting 
and why we were getting less and less 
for our product. The only profit we 
could figure was by “throwing in” our 
labor for nothing. Finally the only topic 
discussed when a few farmers got to¬ 
gether, was cost of production and the 
price of milk and grain. They were 
waking up. Our milk checks for 1917 
totaled ,$2,231.41; for 1918, $2.S16.56, 
but it was harder to show a profit than 
when milk was cheaper because feed was 
just as high comparatively. 
Somewhere in France. —The Spring 
of 1918 we had to see Brother join the 
rapidly training army at Camp Dix. Bill 
needed him on the farm, but he would 
hot allow us to claim his services. April 
1 he said “Goodby” to all of us, and the 
girl, and went to join his comrades at the 
damp. We never saw him again! All 
that Summer we were hardly aware of 
our own affairs. We heard from him 
often until he went across, but he was 
never allowed to come home. There were 
several letters from “Somewhere in 
France,” and then that message, “Killed 
in action.” Then those waiting months 
when we hoped in vain that it was a mis¬ 
take! He was killed at St. Mihiel. We 
learned afterward that he only lived two 
hours after he was wounded. He had his 
)vish ; he had told us once that he did 
hot fear death, but dreaded to be disabled 
£nd have to live. That was a terrible 
year for everyone who had any of their 
family “over there”! His body was 
brought home and lies by his father and 
mother, as he wished. We are glad the 
Winters he spent with us were happy 
ones, and they will always remain among 
pur most cherished memories. 
I josses and Gains. —In May, 1918, 
we bought a flivver to market more of our 
produce in the city markets. It seemed 
like a foolish purchase, but came nearer 
to paying than any of our others. We 
used it for everything. It surely made us 
a lot of extra dollars from what we had 
to sell. Apples, potatoes, sweet corn, 
garden stuff, maple syrup, meat, eggs and 
poultry—all brought in good prices when 
we could get them to the right markets. 
But it was not all good luck that Sum¬ 
mer. We lost two horses, a cow, two 
calves and a bull. We all had the “flu,” 
too, and were mighty discouraged, to say 
the least. Bill said if we had both gone 
to work at war prices we could have 
saved enough to pay our bills and not 
worked as hard as we had on the farm. 
But those who did that (there were a 
great many, too) did not seem to be any 
richer when they came back than they 
had been. Their spending had kept pace 
with their earning in almost every case. 
So perhaps we were just as well satis¬ 
fied with what we actually accomplished 
at home. At any rate our home looked 
better for the work we had done there. 
Although there were many improvements 
that we lacked, our place looked a lot 
different from the tumbledown-looking 
farm we started with. The lawn was 
nice, both back and front, with a hedge 
of beautiful Spirmas separating it from 
the field beyond; a row of roses next to 
the garage made a lovely picture from 
the back door; besides the drive into the 
garage were peonies, and a gnarled old 
apple tree furnished a shady spot in the 
large backyard. Several other shrubs 
were grouped in a corner of the back¬ 
yard ; a lilac bush with an ivy climbing 
over a part of it to the roof, two Hy¬ 
drangeas, a large bunch of Golden Glow 
in an out-of-the-way corner outside the 
border of the lawn, and across the drive 
in the corner of the garden were all kinds 
of flowers; hollyhocks, sweet peas, Cos¬ 
mos, poppies—all the kinds that everyone 
loves. The front lawn was almost with¬ 
out decoration—just a Japanese honey¬ 
suckle on each side of the front door, and 
the four giant maples along the highway. 
We had spent much time and care, and 
some money, to make our home attrac¬ 
tive, but it was a great satisfaction to 
have it as we liked it. 
Increasing Work. —In May, 1919, 
another daughter arrived to keep our big 
girl company; a fine, healthy babe, who 
seemed to realize that baby tending was 
out of date entirely, and especially on 
the farm. She was good, and it was for¬ 
tunate for us, as we were very busy that 
Summer. In August Bill hired a man to 
help him put a cement floor in the big 
cow stable. That made more work for 
me, but with a little extra help I man¬ 
aged fairly well. “Sister” was devoted 
to the baby, and never seemed to tire of 
watching her, so I could go ahead with 
the work without worrying about her the 
least bit. But, at best, the bills were 
huge ones all that Summer. We were 
thankful that we had four acres of pota¬ 
toes to market. The early ones brought a 
very good price, and the late ones were 
wonderful to yield, so. altogether, they 
were our salvation. We sold every one 
we could spare and paid our interest and 
some of the most pressing bills, but we 
were somewhat discoux-aged to think that 
we were starting in on our tenth year 
and could not see our way out any more 
than ever. In fact, with the after-war 
slump in prices, we were worth much 
less in real money than we had been five 
yeai’s before! Milk could not be ex¬ 
ported and was a drug in the market be¬ 
cause of the surplus. We fairly hated 
that word! All through the war the 
farmei-s had seen their prices “regulated” 
as a war measure. Their production had 
been doubled and their help cut down to 
the minimum. They had worked eaxdy 
and late as a patriotic duty. As soon as 
the war was over their prices were “shot 
to pieces” at once! They were the ones 
who “got stung” both ways. Every other 
producing industry was protected and 
guaranteed a profit. The farmer was 
urged to produce more and more crops, 
and then his prices were cut to nothing 
because of “the surplus.” 
Getting Out of Debt. —As 1920 was 
a good crop year, prices were low. We 
sold our cows until we had just 14 of our 
best producers, and milked them by hand 
to save the cost of running the milkers. 
We made one very good move toward suc¬ 
cess. It was that the best way to get out 
of debt was to stop going in debt! That 
was good business, only we had waited 
rather too long to find it out. The first 
nine months of that year our milk checks 
totaled $2,461.90. and we marketed near¬ 
ly $600 worth of other pi’oduce, besides 
the maple syrup. We were getting just 
a little encouraged when October 1 the 
milk company closed its plant. That 
nearly caused a panic among the local 
farmers. It made a lot of difference to 
us, too. The last month at the plant our 
check had been $232.70, and for October 
at the cheese factory it was $87.13. All 
that Winter it was just the same. The 
prices we got were ridiculous. March 20, 
1921, the milk plant opened up again. 
But it had been enough of an experience, 
so that after May 1, 1921, the old Dairy- 
men’s League became the “Dairymen’s 
League Co-opei’ative Association, Inc.,” 
and by the pooling system the dairyman 
controlled the surplus for himself. This 
plan has had its ups and downs and has 
been fought bitterly by the big companies, 
but it is the only method yet found that 
would work at all. As it is perfected it 
is going to help the dairy fanner more 
than anything else, I believe, to regulate 
the price of milk. 1921 was also a good 
year for crops, but about the same as the 
year before for pxuces. Milk bi-ought less 
because all the milk companies were de¬ 
termined the new co-operative scheme 
would prove a failure. It surely was not 
any fault of theirs that it did not quit at 
once. We made up, in potatoes and other 
marketable stuff, what we lost on milk 
prices, but it was slow business trying to 
make a profit large enough to pay ex¬ 
penses and bills, too. We had faithfully 
stood by our x-esolution about going fur¬ 
ther in debt, but there did not seem to be 
any “easy money” coming our way. Final¬ 
ly we determined to try our very best 
“just one more year,” and if we could 
not make good we would sell our farxn 
and try to make a living somewhere else. 
Further Plans.— We made plans for 
more poultry again the Winter of 1922. 
The old incubator was made ready for 
another hatch after its long vacation, and 
hatching eggs were ordered for the last of 
February. Then Bill had the “flu!” We 
got a man to milk and take care of the 
barn chores until he was able to be out 
again. He was just over it when he was 
taken sick again. This time he had it 
woi-se than before, and was hai-dly on his 
feet when the 12-year-old girl came down 
with it, and I was in bed with it also. 
Mine was an obstinate case, and finally I 
had pneumonia ! That meant that there 
had to be a “hired girl,” a trained nurse, 
and the doctor evei’y day for some time. 
But we were glad and thankful to be 
able to face the Springtime together. In 
spite of all that extra expense “an’ every¬ 
thing,” I think it was about the happiest 
time of our lives. About as soon as I 
could walk I set the incubator, and the 
last of April had a good hatch of Barred 
Plymouth Rocks. From then until July 
1 I kept the hatches coming as fast as 
they would. My idea was to market 
them as broilers just as soon as they 
weighed enough. We sold a lot of them 
and when September came I bad 75 pul¬ 
lets left that I did hate to sell for meat. 
They were nearly all Rocks, and I want¬ 
ed to keep them to lay that Winter. Bill 
could not afford to build a place to put 
them, but at last thought of a plan that 
would work. The garage was cleared out, 
nests and roosts were put in place, and 
my 75 pullets were saved ! “Lizzie” was 
stored in the tool shed with the other 
farm machinery. 
Farm Accounts.— We started keeping 
farm accounts at about this time. Every 
cent we took in was credited in the prop¬ 
er place. By the Spring of 1923 we were 
convinced that there was money in poul¬ 
try if we were willing to do the work. 
Those 75 pullets paid for their feed and 
ours, too, which left the milk check for 
the other bills. We pay our expenses as 
we go along now. No more “running 
bills” for us! They run too fast! Slow¬ 
ly but surely we can see that we are 
climbing out of debt. Last Summer we 
raised 200 Leghorn pullets and sold the 
heavy fowls to make room for them. 
They are doing better than the Rocks. 
Last Spring we set out 1,500 stx-awberi-y 
plants and expect to market a crop from 
them if all goes well. There, again, the 
flivver will help put them where they will 
make us the most money. It means hard 
work, but we are not one bit afraid of 
that if it pays. We have learned from 
experience that we can expect to get only 
in proportion to what we give. That 
rule works in farming as it does in every- 
thing else. We are not yet “out of the 
woods”—we have been a long time going 
in debt; we cannot get out in a hurry, 
but must pay for our mistakes. How¬ 
ever, there is no more talk of selling our 
place. We love it too much. Why, our 
folks would be “out of place” anywhere 
else. It is beautiful. We have worked 
hard to make it so; and it is our home ! 
We still stick to that rule about going in 
debt. Never again ! But when we are 
finally out —it will not be long, with no 
serious reverses—then we can work out 
some of the plans we have cherished for 
13 years. Will that be a grand and glo¬ 
rious feeling? I’ll leave it to you! 
A NEW YORK STATE FARMER’S WIFE. 
Cheese-making at Home 
Every Spring I like to get a nice veal 
rennet from the butcher (I think any 
butcher will save one for a quarter), and 
use it all Summer. Rinse it in- several 
waters till it is perfectly clean, but use 
cold water. Three or four waters will 
be sufficient and anyone can fix one in 
10 minutes. When the rennet is clean 
put it into a 2-qt. jar with about a quart 
of cold water and at least a cup of salt. 
In a week or 10 days the liquid rennet 
is ready for use. Test it by trying a 
teaspoonful in a cup of milk; if it sets 
firmly in 15 or 20 minutes the rennet is 
all right to use, though after it stands 
longer a teaspoonful is all I use to set a 
quart of milk for junket custard. As 
fast as it is used out more brine should 
be added so that the supply will not di¬ 
minish. Probably in time the rennet 
would be extracted, but not in one Sum¬ 
mer, for ordinary family use. We did 
not find it especially profitable to make 
our own cheese with commercial rennet 
because of the expense, but the home¬ 
made article costs practically nothing, 
is more satisfactory, and is no trouble at 
all to make. For five gallons of warm 
milk, either fresh or warmed to a simi¬ 
lar temperature, add one cup rennet. 
Stir well and let stand till firm. Cut into 
about inch squares with a long knife 
that will reach to the bottom. We put 
the milk in a clean washboiler and cut 
it with a long bread knife. After the 
curd has separated somewhat from the 
whey set on the stove and scald till a 
piece of curd will squeak between the 
teeth. Drain in a cheesecloth strainer. A 
handy way is to pin the strainer with 
clothespins over the top of a large can, 
letting the cloth sag well into the can, 
and pour in the milk; but more often 
we poured off what whey we could and 
then poured into the strainer. 
When it has drained quite dry, salt to 
taste, mix well, and put to press. Our 
press consists of a 10-lb. tea pail with 
the bottom out for a cheese hoop, a 
wooden “follower” cut from a plank to 
fit loosely inside the hoop, and wliittled 
smooth, a small square block to drop in 
on top of the “follower,” a plank on 
which. to set the hoop, and another to lay 
on top for a weight. After salting and 
mixing, pick up the curd in the strainer 
and put it in the hoop which should be 
placed on a slightly inclined plank. Fold 
the corners of the cloth over the cheese, 
put in the “follower,” put the block on 
top, and the w-eight on the block. In 24 
hours remove from pi-ess, take off the 
cloth, grease lightly all over with nice 
sweet lard, and store in a warm room to 
cure, turning every day to prevent mold 
from forming on the underside. We like 
it in two weeks, but it won’t be “snappy” 
for a month or six weeks. 
We all like rennet desserts and it is as 
easy to make as to fix one’s coffee at din¬ 
ner. To a quai’t of warm milk, sweet¬ 
ened and flavored to taste, add a teaspoon 
of liquid rennet, stir well and pour into 
custard cups or sherbet glasses. Leave 
in a warm room till firm, and set in a 
cool place till x’eady to serve. A big 
spoon of whipped cream on top is a de¬ 
cided improvement, but the plain cus¬ 
tard is delicious. A small tablespoon of 
cocoa melted with just a little water in 
the dish before putting in the milk makes 
a nice chocolate custard, and the addi¬ 
tion of any kind of fruit to the plain cus¬ 
tard makes a fruit junket known as fru- 
jolac. Add a well-beaten egg to the milk, 
and the result is • practically identical 
with an ordinary baked custard. 
At our house we use whipped cream in 
innumerable ways, revel in cream biscuits 
and other sour cream doughs, use lots of 
buttermilk in cooking, and butter on the 
table. None of us like butter pastry vei‘y 
well, but we all like plenty in vegetables. 
Our men like nothing better than a big 
layer cake made from sour cream and 
spread thick with nice jelly, or a sour 
ci-eam loaf cake heaped with whipped 
cream. mrs. E. m. a. 
This float appeared in a Sunday school parade in Wayne Co., N. Y. It illustrates 
the cradle roll department. Why should not the Sunday school advex-tise its business? 
