XVIII
THE NEW IMPLEMENTS
When Joe Williams purchased Brookside Farm from his father, the equipment of farm implements which his father turned over to him was meager; indeed, the few that answered the name of implements were so old and had been so badly neglected, by being exposed to all kinds of weather, they were practically useless.
After a conference with John White, the banker, Joe Williams sent for Mr. Patterson, the representative of the Farmers' Harvester Company. The three spent a half day together going carefully over their full line of farm implements, selecting from the list such new machines as they felt were best suited to their requirements.
A tractor, disk and harrow had already been delivered to the farm, and left there after the spring plowing, but no arrangements for the purchase of them had yet been made. After having seen the advantage of these implements, and heard them favorably commented upon by his neighbors, Joe Williams decided they must remain at Brookside.
He now selected a new riding corn planter, one not only capable of planting corn in rows, but also in hills, and as a companion to this machine, he selected a horse-drawn cultivator. After considerable discussion, he decided to purchase a side delivery hay rake and a windrow loader, chiefly on account of the speed with which hay could be gotten in with this combination. He could then leave his hay out until it was just right and get it in quickly ahead of storms. With these two machines, he also bought the latest improved mowing machine. Then he picked out a substantial reaper and binder. The erection of the new silo made it necessary to select machinery for filling it, and a corn binder, with a bundle elevator, was finally selected on account of the saving in labor. A blower type ensilage cutter with the necessary pipe for filling the silo and leather belt for driving it by the tractor, were selected. Then a new grain drill with fertilizer and grass-seed attachments was added.
"I guess that's about as many implements as I can afford to buy at one time," remarked Joe Williams.
"Now, look here, Joe," said John White; "why do a thing half? You know you'll be short a number of things if you stop here; besides, you've left out a lot of low-cost tools that you ought to have to make a complete equipment."
"Why, what more do I need?" asked Joe, surprised at the banker's statement.
"Well, for one thing, you ought to have a first-class manure spreader; it will do the work much quicker, and save you many backaches—now that you've decided to fertilize heavily. Then you should have a good power-driven corn sheller and a small mill for grinding corn meal and buckwheat flour. You also ought to have a one and a half horsepower kerosene engine, mounted on a portable hand truck."
"What would that be for?" asked Joe Williams, looking up.
"Well, you'll have a lot of places to use it—such as running the washing machine, turning the grindstone, corn sheller, or the cream separator, if the electric system breaks down, and other small jobs around the farm, where a portable engine will be very handy to save work and increase speed."
"We'll have the engines on the tractor that we can use," protested
Williams.
"That's all right, Joe," said the banker, "but it's too heavy for many of the light jobs, and it would not pay to consume the amount of kerosene and oil necessary to operate it, so I think you had better include the engine."
"All right," said Joe. "Let's have it then along with the others."
"What about your electric lighting plant, Joe, with the new buildings coming along? You ought to look out for that."
"Bettie and Bob have been looking up a lot of data on that subject and they've decided on putting in a water-driving unit. It requires more wire to bring the power up from the dam, but in the end will be cheaper as it costs nothing to operate."
"How many electric lights do you want to use?" asked Mr. Patterson.
"We've figured that we ought to have about one hundred sixty-watt lamp capacity for the complete farm; that would take care of the small motor of the vacuum cleaner and sewing machine."
"We don't make the outfit, Mr. Williams," said the agent, "but I'll arrange to get a good one for you and will not charge you any commission on it—taking such a large order as you are giving me, I'll be very glad to arrange this for you."
"Well, here's a catalog of the make they have picked out and if you'll take it up with the manufacturers, I'll appreciate it," said Williams. "We'll want a detail drawing showing how to make a foundation for the wheel and generator. Bob's worked out an automatic starting and stopping device. The wiring, of course, we'll do ourselves."
"How about an auto truck, Joe; don't you think you ought to have a good auto truck on the farm?"
"Not with a team of horses and a good live tractor. Of course, an auto truck would be an advantage in some respects, and I'll probably want one next year, but I think we can get along without that for the present. Speaking of making a complete outfit, Mr. White, Bettie gave me a list of some other things she wanted."
"What are they?" asked the banker.
"Well, for one thing, she thinks we ought to tear down the old cider mill because it's too slow to operate. In former years, when labor was cheap, it answered very well, but the modern machines are much quicker and better."
"I think you ought to have that, Joe," said the banker. "Have you thought of a power saw for the wood lot and cutting up the rails of your old fences? That's a 'Hidden Treasure' that you and Bob have probably overlooked."
"There's where you're wrong, John," laughed Williams. "I've overlooked it entirely, I'll confess, but not Bob. He's figured out already how many cords of wood we'll get out of those old rails."
"I tell you, Patterson," said the banker smiling, "there's a boy who's going to make things pay. I've plans for him myself that I'm not saying anything about. I don't want to take him away from you, Joe, but he's growing up and some day he's going to have a farm of his own. If you get two years' work out of him at the rate he's going, I don't think you'll have any complaint to make though. By the way, how about a power washing-machine and mangle for the laundry? Don't you think your wife will need those?"
"She was speaking about them the other day," admitted Joe. "I guess I'd better include them. Then, of course, we'll need some first-class scales. Bob has been after me ever since he's been here to get a new platform scale and a good steelyard, for weighing bulky stuff, and we ought to have a new scale for the dairy also."
"Those ought to be bought, Joe; you can't get far on a farm without good scales," remarked the banker. "Now, let's see what all this is going to cost. What do you make it, Joe?"
"Well, I figure the items that Patterson's company is going to furnish will come to $3000, and the other items that we have decided to get will make a total of $5000."
"This ought to give you a splendid outfit, Joe, and make it possible for you to do the work of two or three men, and with less fatigue to yourself."
"Get these tools here, Patterson, as soon as you can," said Williams. "We want the corn planter and cultivator first and the others just as soon as possible."
"I've a planter and cultivator in the Pittsburgh warehouse now, and can have them here in three or four days."
"That'll be fine," said Williams, as he signed the order for the implements.
"What discount will there be for cash on an order of this size, Patterson?" he asked suddenly. "We'll allow you seven per cent for cash on delivery, which is a little better than we ordinarily give, but we'll throw off a little in your case for advertising, Joe. We'll probably be troubling you some this summer sending your neighbors around to see the tools working."
"That'll be all right," said Joe smiling. "Let as many come as want to. I think lots of them are getting jealous already, for I keep mentioning to them whenever I see them how Brookside is prospering."
"Well, thanks for the order, Joe," said Patterson, as he shook him by the hand. "I don't mind saying this is the most complete order I've ever taken for a single farm in your section of the country. Our company ought to be proud to know they're going to have a farm so fully equipped with their implements."
"There's another thing I've had on my mind all day, Joe," remarked the banker, "and that is what you're going to do when you get all these new tools and your neighbors come over and want to borrow them. You can't be unneighborly and yet you can't supply the county with tools."
"That's where I'm one ahead of you, John," laughed Williams. "We figured that all out last night. We decided that five years would be the average book life of all our new tools and implements, which would mean a depreciation of twenty per cent each year. Now, all we have to do is to divide twenty per cent, of the cost by the number of acres on which we use the implement, and we have the depreciation per acre. We can work that all out and make a schedule of rates. What we propose to do is to loan any tool we have, when we don't need it ourselves, at the established rate plus breakage and repairs."
"Ha! Ha! Joe, that's a fine idea," laughed the banker, "but I'll bet you the price of the power-driven ice-cream freezer you forgot to order, it was not your own idea."
"No, it wasn't," confessed Williams.
"Well, who's was it then?" eagerly asked the banker.
"Bob's," said Joe Williams.
"It sounds like King Solomon, Joe," said the banker, "for it's certainly the best solution of that troublesome problem I ever heard. No one can rightfully refuse to pay for the actual use of a tool, even though he can't afford to own one, and five years ought to be a fair book value average. So Bob thought that out," he chuckled. "Joe, I'm getting prouder of that red-head, freckled face nephew of yours every time I see him, and you don't want to forget when you come to settle with him that his ideas are worth something to you as well as his labor. Let's go out and see what he's doing on the new cow barn," continued the banker, and they walked over to the new building.
"Hello, Bob! How are things moving this morning?"
"Pretty good, Mr. White. This cow barn's going to be some building compared with the hen house. Tony and I staked it out and started the foundations. Where are those boys you were going to send me?"
"That's why I came out to see you to-day," replied the banker.
"There'll be six here to-morrow. I couldn't get them two at a time, so
I thought you had better take them when you could get them. Each boy
is to stay a week, Bob."
"I don't think Aunt Bettie can take care of six boys at once, if they all stay overnight."
"Only two will stay at night, Bob. I told them the working hours would be from seven to six; that will give them time to get home. You had better arrange your work so you can take full advantage of their help."
"We've plenty of work, Mr. White. I could use a dozen boys right now," replied Bob. "We ought to have the timbers for the roof brought out, Uncle Joe. Couldn't you take the big tractor and the wagon and bring out a load this afternoon, while you are waiting for the corn planter to come?"
"It wouldn't pay to run the tractor for just one wagon, Bob," said his uncle, "when it can haul two wagons at once."
"There's something we forgot," said the banker; "you should have a good substantial truck around this place, one that will haul a real load, and I know where you can get a good one at about half price. Henry Smith, the man from whom you bought the auto, Joe, took it in trade for a motor truck recently. Call him up on the 'phone and tell him you want it—tell him you would like to have him put in a short tongue for a motor hitch. The truck has been used for hauling lumber and is just right for your work." As they were speaking, they saw Edith rushing across the barnyard waving her hat and shouting. She was more excited than Bob had ever seen her and had evidently been running for quite a distance, for she was so out of breath she could scarcely make herself understood. As she neared them, she exclaimed:
"The bees, Bob—they're swarming!"
"There, Bob, now you've a real job on your hands," laughed the banker. "If I weren't so afraid of them myself, I'd like to see you put them into the hive."
"Well, I've never done it before, Mr. White," he replied, "but I think
I can manage it."
"Perhaps you better take Tony along to help you," suggested his uncle.
"No, I'll take care of them myself, Uncle Joe," he replied, and started for the house to get his veil and smoker.
When he arrived at the apiary, much to his surprise, not one but three of the colonies had swarmed. One had left the hive and alighted on an apple tree nearby, the second was just getting ready to leave, and the third was hanging outside in a way that showed they would soon be on the wing.
Bob was so intent on his work that he was not aware that anyone was near him, until he heard a voice say:
"Won't you let me help you, Bob; I'm not afraid of being stung."
He looked up quickly, and there was Edith—her head concealed in a quickly constructed veil. She was wearing a white cotton blouse and she also had on a pair of kid gloves with the fingers cut off.
"Aren't you afraid you'll get stung, Edith," said Bob.
"I'm like yourself, Bob; I've never handled bees before, but I think they're the most interesting thing we have on the farm. I've been reading many books about them recently. Won't you let me help you?"
"Yes, if you're not afraid, I'd be glad to have you," he replied, "for there's going to be two more swarms soon."
They brushed off the swarm into a small box and carried it over to a new hive. As soon as the queen had entered, they left it there and went back to watch the second one.
They were just in time, for the swarm that filled the air was starting to settle and they, too, were soon gathered and put into a new hive. By this time the third one was out and they saw it was getting ready for a long flight, for it kept getting higher and higher, despite the racket they made, and started off. It flew for quite a distance before it settled on the limb of a shell-bark hickory tree in a field on the adjoining farm.
"Of all the places for them to pick out," said Bob, as he and Edith came up and saw where they had finally settled, "but nevertheless I'm not going to lose that swarm, if I can help it; though it's going to be pretty hard climbing that tree. Every time I climb a hickory tree, I think of Jim Black."
"Why, who was he?" asked Edith.
"Oh, he was the meanest man in the country. They say he'd wear out a pair of new overalls climbing a sell-bark hickory tree to get the wool out of a robin's nest," laughed Bob.
"He must have been pretty mean if he'd do that," said Edith.
After considerable work, Bob managed to get up over the rough jagged trunk and finally succeeded in cutting off the limb on which the bees were hanging. With the end of the limb in one hand, he worked his way back to the trunk and then gradually on down to the ground, where Edith took the limb from him. After putting the bees into a box they carried them back and put them into a new hive.
Shortly after the bees had arrived at the farm, Bob had purchased ten new sectional hives and a supply of ready-made combs to aid them in rapid honey-making. Much to his surprise he found two of these hives had been set up and had colonies working in them.
"I wonder when those hives got bees in them, Edith?" he inquired, surprised to see he had two more colonies than he knew about.
"That's a secret," she laughed.
"What do you mean—a secret?" he asked.
"Well, yesterday when you were in town two colonies swarmed and Aunt Bettie and I didn't know what to do with them, but Tony overheard us talking about it, and what do you suppose he did?"
"It looks as though he hived them," replied Bob.
"That's just what he did. He wouldn't put on a veil or gloves, either, but just went over to the limb, scraped them into a box, carried them over and put them in the hive. He even picked up the queen and held it up and showed it to me. I was afraid to get too close for fear I'd get stung, for I didn't have a veil on. He said he understands bees and that they never sting him."
"That's fine," said Bob. "I'd lost them if it hadn't been for Tony."
"Yes, I think they would probably have gotten away," said Edith, "so you'll have to thank Tony for saving them for you. I think your hives are too hot, Bob. The trees don't shade them from the afternoon sun. Why don't you design a concrete apiary, a sort of an umbrella, and keep them cooler, then they're not so apt to swarm. You could make it so it could be closed up in the winter, too, then you wouldn't need a cellar."
"I'll do that to-night," said Bob, "because we can't afford to lose any bees, they're too valuable this time of the year, just when the honey-making season's opening."
"I think, Bob," said Edith, on the way back to the house, "that the bees and the chickens are the most interesting things you have on the farm. I really believe I could manage both myself after a little while," she continued, smiling at him, as they walked along.
"I think myself you could, Edith," he added, looking full into her eyes in an understanding way, and then they both became suddenly silent and didn't speak again until they reached the house.