Hidden Treasure Part 31

"I'm glad to see it's unanimous, and that the Commissioners have your hearty support. There's just one other thing I'd like to say and that is that the First National Bank has agreed to subscribe for the bond issue and loan the county all the money we need to build these roads, and you'll have to thank John White and his 'Constructive Banking'

idea for that. I'm sure you'll all be greatly benefited, as it will bring your farms much nearer the market."

"Three cheers for concrete roads," shouted Alex Wallace.

The cheers were given with great applause.

"That's fine," said John White as he arose, "but the improvement of the roads is only the beginning of the work we should do. Each man should plan to improve his own farm, and what's more each acre should be made to produce the maximum amount. First put on plenty of manure, second put on plenty of manure, and third put on plenty of manure-- that's what makes the crops.

"Now, I have an announcement I want to make. I have made arrangements with the State Fair Commissioners to establish four prizes to be awarded each year at the Fair. The first prize is a grain prize of $25, and goes to the farmer whose grain produces the largest yield per acre of ground planted. The second, a prize of $25 to the farm that earns the biggest revenue during the year on the capital invested, the third is a prize of $25 for you ladies and goes to the farm whose dairy earns the most money per cow, and the fourth is a prize of $25 to the farm whose poultry earns the greatest amount per hen. There will be a set of rules governing all these prizes. No farm will be eligible to compete for any of them that has not a regular system of cost accounting and whose books cannot be examined and audited by a public auditor. All book accounts must run from March first of one year to March first of the succeeding year. I believe Mr. Barth has something further to say to you."

Mr. Barth arose and said:

"Gentlemen, I represent, as you know, the manufacturers of Portland cement, and I am authorized to say that the a.s.sociation has also added a prize of $25 to be awarded each year in this county to the farmer who uses the most concrete on his farm during the year--the County Commissioners to be the judges in each case."

Whereupon John White arose and continued:

"Now, before making a visit around the farm, I wish to call your attention to a couple of things I'd like you to be sure and see.

First, take a look at the running water, especially the shower bath.

You men have no idea how it freshens one up at the end of the day to take a shower. Why let the golfer alone enjoy all the good things when you need them more? You should all have running water and a shower. I also want to call to your attention that when the ditch was dug to put in this water system, the ground was so hard that it was blasted out with dynamite. If you will walk out to the orchard back of the smokehouse, and take a look at the field of oats, you will see a strip o>f oats more than a foot higher than the surrounding oats and eight feet wide running across the field--that will show you what dynamite does to the land. I would like you to go to the edge of the field and take a look at those oats. Most of us think that dynamite is used for tearing things apart, but here is a case where it is building up the land and making it produce greater crops. You farmers who are going to exhibit oats at the State Fair this year better look out for your laurels, because I think Joe Williams has the prize winner right there on that piece of dynamited land."

The afternoon was spent in examining the buildings and new machinery, and looking over the plans for the new house and barn. Bob had almost lost his voice by the time the last of the farmers had gone explaining to them the details of the work.

There was not a prouder or happier boy in the state of Pennsylvania that night than Bob Williams, for he felt that Brookside Farm was destined to be a great success and he had been a part of the redemption of the old homestead.

They sat out on the porch in the twilight. While Tony played on his flute they sang many songs. They were surprised how much talent they had in their own family circle. Aunt Bettie and Edith both had good soprano voices and Ruth a fair contralto. Bob sang tenor and his uncle ba.s.s. It was Maria, though, that surprised them with a remarkable good mezzo-soprano.

They were all too happy to sleep, so they sang song after song until the clock struck eleven. Then they sang "The Happy Farmer" song again and went to bed. It had been a great day for Brookside Farm.

XXI

FILLING THE SILO

While Bob and Tony (helped out by the neighbors' boys who came to Brookside Farm to learn the handling of cement) carried on the building work, Mr. Brady, the contractor, made rapid strides with the construction of the house and barn.

Joe Williams looked after the crops with occasional help from Bob and Tony. Ruth, who found the greatest pleasure in the fields, deserted Bob and his concrete mixer entirely for her uncle's machinery. She soon learned to handle the big tractor and used it to cut the entire field of oats. After acquiring the knack of using a pitchfork, it was surprising the work she did and thrived on. She had one vanity, however--that of having her picture taken nearly every day in her farmerette clothes. Edith, who took these pictures, declared Ruth spent her nights thinking up some new poses for the next day's pictures. But they were a happy family, and many a summer evening, when they all seemed too tired to move, Tony's sudden appearance with his flute would start them all singing and cause them to forget their bodily fatigue.

"The corn in the back field looks as though it's about ready for the silo, Bob," said his uncle one morning, "and I think we had better arrange to start filling it to-morrow. It will give us a chance to try out our new machinery. It's surprising how large the corn in the new bottom has grown--I never would have believed it myself without having actually seen it."

"Don't you think, Uncle Joe, we should leave a small section of the best of it standing, say three or four acres, for seed corn? We could get $5 a bushel next spring for good seed corn, besides having our own. Then, too, we ought to have some to exhibit at the Fair. I don't think there'll be any corn like it in the county."

"That's so," said his uncle. "It would be well to do that. We could exhibit some on the stalks, too, and then people could see how fertile Brookside Farm is. I've arranged to put on four men and three teams to help us, Bob, because it will take seven to handle the outfit. It ought not to take us more than three days to do the work--that would mean fifty tons per day to haul and three horses on the binder."

So the next morning at seven o'clock the new corn binder was started in the bottom field and by the end of the third day the corn was all harvested, cut to three-quarter inch length and placed in the silo, without a break or delay.

"There's one advantage in having the right kind of machinery to do a job, Uncle Joe," said Bob admiringly; "you can cut the corn when it's just right. If we had let the corn stand a few days longer, it would not have been as good as it is now. We'll probably have the best ensilage that will be put up this year."

[Ill.u.s.tration: TRANSFERRING THE GREEN CORN CROP FROM FIELD TO SILO. NO FARMER DOING WINTER FEEDING CAN AFFORD TO BE WITHOUT A PROFIT-MAKING SILO]

"What rate do you think we should charge for the corn binder and ensilage cutter, Bob?" asked his uncle. "Some of the neighbors want to hire it."

"Why not use twenty acres as a basis and charge the same as we decided for the other tools,"

"That looks pretty high," said his uncle.

"No higher than it should be," replied Bob. "If we kept the machines ourselves, Uncle Joe, they would be in good shape for five years, but you know when you rent a machine out, they don't take care of it as we do, so I think we ought to charge one per cent. of the cost of the two machines per acre to each farmer who rents it."

"But if you rent it to five farmers in a season, Bob, we would pay for the machines in one year and still own the machines. Isn't that a pretty high price?" asked his uncle.

"But wouldn't the machines have done five years' rated work, Uncle Joe? Do you know anybody who is renting them cheaper?"

"It might be cheaper for some fellows to club together and get the machines," said his uncle.

"Well, then let them do it and in the meantime our machines won't be worn out," said Bob.

"All right," said his uncle; "Billie Waterson put up a silo and wants to borrow our machines."

"I'd make him agree to return them in good condition and pay for all repairs necessary," said Bob; "don't forget that."

"All right," said his uncle; "I think I'll let him have it on that basis."

As soon as the silo had been filled, the apple-picking was started.

They had been in a quandary to know just how to get this crop harvested, as the trees were exceptionally full of well-developed apples. Tony finally solved the problem by saying he could send to Pittsburgh and get three or four Italian boys who would be willing to work for a dollar or two a day, so they were engaged. All the apples were carefully picked by hand and a.s.sorted in sizes, using a device designed by Tony, where the apples were allowed to roll slowly down a trough. As the apples dropped through the hole in the bottom of the grading trough, they rolled down other chutes to the waiting crates.

"I think we'll sell our apples this year, Bob, by the piece instead of by the bushel," said his aunt, after inspecting the first that were picked. "They look so fine I think we can easily get four to five cents each for them if they are put in nice cartons and each apple wrapped in paper. We can put our label on them and after we have marketed them for a year or two, people will write in for their supply. I know some firms in the mountains of Virginia who are doing that now and selling all they can raise. We can keep the first and second grade apples for sale and the third for our own use and for cider making. I think perhaps the three best sellers would be the Winesaps, Black Twigs and Albemarle Pippins. They look exceptionally fine. I don't think I ever saw nicer apples than ours."

When they had the apples all gathered, they found they had 500 bushels of first and second grade apples of the three varieties and 63 bushels of the third grade. Of these latter they kept 13 bushels for their own use, and after making ten barrels of cider, they offered the rest for sale in town, where they obtained 50 cents per bushel for them.

"It will be better, Joe, to sell them off at a cheap price rather than keep them and sort them all winter. Besides, we don't want to market any but the best under the name of the farm."

"We must hurry the work, Bob, on the root cellar to take care of our apples," said his aunt.

"All right, Aunt Bettie," he replied; "it's nearly finished."

A few days after the cider-making had been completed, the new milking machine arrived. The agent for the manufacturers sent a man to show Bob how to erect it. When the machine had been completed and tried out, they tested it out that night. Bob found he could milk his ten best cows in just a half hour, or half the time it had taken before to milk by hand.

Milking by power certainly was a great idea and the cows didn't seem to object at all to the change. Bob and his aunt were sure now that they had not made any miscalculations on designing the dairy barn for a twenty-cow herd; they felt they would be able to take care of that number easily.

"Let's go hunting, Bob," said Ruth one morning at breakfast a few days later. "I'd like to shoot some real game."

"All right," said Bob, "but we've only one gun between us. You see, I don't own a gun and Uncle Joe has only one."

"Oh, that reminds me," said his uncle, "John White gave me a package yesterday to bring out for you and I was so busy I forgot and left it in the automobile last night. I guess it's still there," and he winked at Edith and Ruth across the table.

Bob got up and went to the barn and came back a few minutes later with a long package. When opened, he found, much to his delight, it contained a double-barreled hammerless shotgun. Tied to the gun was a card on which was written: "For my friend, Bob Williams, with best wishes, from John White."