Now, here is a farm costing $10,595, the receipts from which, saying nothing about interest, are less than the expenses. And if you add two cents per pound more to the price of the cheese, the profit would still be only about $50 per year. The trouble is not so much in the low price of cheese, as in the low product per acre. I know some grain-growing farmers who have done no better than this for a few years past.
Mr. Shull places the annual depreciation and interest on stock at $180, equal to nearly one-seventh of the total receipts of the farm. It would pay the wages and board of another man for six months. Can not it be avoided? Good beef is relatively much higher in this State than good cheese. Some of the dairy authorities tell us that cheese is the cheapest animal food in the world, while beef is the dearest. Why, then, should our dairymen confine their attention to the production of the cheapest of farm products, and neglect almost entirely the production of the dearest? If beef is high and cheese low, why not raise more beef? On low-priced land it may be profitable to raise and keep cows solely for the production of cheese, and when the cows are no longer profitable for this purpose, to sacrifice them—to throw them aside as we do a worn-out machine. And in similar circumstances we may be able to keep sheep solely for their wool, but on high-priced land we can not afford to keep sheep merely for their wool. We must adopt a higher system of farming and feeding, and keep sheep that will give us wool, lambs, and mutton. In parts of South America, where land costs nothing, cattle can be kept for their bones, tallow, and hides, but where food is costly we must make better use of it. A cow is a machine for converting vegetable food into veal, butter, cheese, and beef. The first cost of the machine, if a good one, is considerable—say $100. This machine has to be kept running night and day, summer and winter, week days and Sundays. If we were running a steam-flouring mill that could never be allowed to stop, we should be careful to lay in a good supply of coal and also have plenty of grain on hand to grind, so that the mill would never have to run empty. No sensible man would keep up steam merely to run the mill. He would want to grind all the time, and as much as possible; and yet coal is a much cheaper source of power than the hay and corn with which we run our milk-producing machine. How often is the latter allowed to run empty? The machine is running night and day—must run, but is it always running to advantage? Do we furnish fuel enough to enable it to do full work, or only little more than enough to run the machinery?
“What has all this to do with making manure on dairy farms?” asked the Deacon; “you are wandering from the point.”
“I hope not; I am trying to show that good feeding will pay better than poor feeding—and better food means better manure.”
I estimate that it takes from 15 to 18 lbs. of ordinary hay per day to run this cow-machine, which we have been talking about, even when kept warm and comfortable; and if exposed to cold storms, probably not less than 20 lbs. of hay a day, or its equivalent, and this merely to keep the machine running, without doing any work. It requires this to keep the cow alive, and to prevent her losing flesh. If not supplied with the requisite amount of food for this purpose, she will take enough fat and flesh from her own body to make up the deficiency; and if she cannot get it, the machine will stop—in other words, the cow will die.
We have, then, a machine that costs say $100; that will last on an average eight years; that requires careful management; that must have constant watching, or it will be liable to get out of order, and that requires, merely to keep it running, say 20 lbs. of hay per day. Now, what do we get in return? If we furnish only 20 lbs. of hay per day we get—nothing except manure. If we furnish 25 lbs. of hay per day, or its equivalent, we get, say half a pound of cheese per day. If we furnish 30 lbs. we get one pound of cheese per day, or 365 lbs. a year. We may not get the one pound of cheese every day in the year; sometimes the cow, instead of giving milk, is furnishing food for her embryo calf, or storing up fat and flesh; and this fat and flesh will be used by and by to produce milk. But it all comes from the food eaten by the cow; and is equal to one pound of cheese per day for 30 lbs. of hay or its equivalent consumed; 20 lbs. of hay gives us nothing; 25 lbs. of hay gives us half a pound of cheese, or 40 lbs. of cheese from one ton of hay; 30 lbs. gives us one pound, or 66⅔ lbs. of cheese from one ton of hay; 35 lbs. gives us 1½ lbs., or 85 5/7 lbs. of cheese to one ton of hay; 40 lbs. gives us 2 lbs. of cheese, or 100 lbs. of cheese from one ton of hay; 45 lbs. gives us 2⅓ lbs. of cheese, or 111 lbs. of cheese from one ton of hay; 50 lbs. gives us 3 lbs. of cheese, or 120 lbs. of cheese from one ton of hay.
On this basis, one ton of hay, in excess of the amount required to keep up the animal heat and sustain the vital functions, gives us 200 lbs. of cheese. The point I wish to illustrate by these figures, which are of course hypothetical, is, that it is exceedingly desirable to get animals that will eat, digest, and assimilate a large amount of food, over and above that required to keep up the heat of the body and sustain the vital functions. When a cow eats only 25 lbs. of hay a day, it requires one ton of hay to produce 40 lbs. of cheese. But if we could induce her to eat, digest, and assimilate 50 lbs. a day, one ton would produce 120 lbs. of cheese. If a cow eats 33 lbs. of hay per day, or its equivalent in grass, it will require four acres of land, with a productive capacity equal to 1½ tons of hay per acre, to keep her a year. Such a cow, according to the figures given above, will produce 401½ lbs. of cheese a year, or its equivalent in growth. A farm of 80 acres, on this basis, would support 20 cows, yielding, say 8,000 lbs. of cheese. Increase the productive power of the farm one half, (I hope the Deacon has not gone to sleep), and keep 20 cows that will eat half as much again food, and we should then get 21,600 lbs. of cheese. If cheese is worth 15 cents per lb., a farm of 80 acres, producing 1½ tons of hay, or its equivalent, per acre, and supporting 20 cows, would give us a gross return of $1,204.50. The same farm so improved as to produce 2¼ tons of hay or its equivalent, per acre—fed to 20 cows capable of eating, digesting, and assimilating it—would give a gross return of $3,240.
In presenting these figures, I hope you will not think me a visionary. I do not think it is possible to get a cow to produce 3 lbs. of cheese a day throughout the whole year. But I do think it quite possible to so breed and feed a cow that she will produce 3 lbs. of cheese per day, or its equivalent in veal, flesh, or fat. We frequently have cows that produce 3 lbs. of cheese a day for several weeks; and a cow can be so fed that she will produce 3 lbs. of cheese a day without losing weight. And if she can extract this amount of matter out of the food for a part of the year, why can not she do so for the whole year? Are the powers of digestion weaker in the fall and winter than in spring and summer? If not, we unquestionably sustain great loss by allowing this digestive power to run to waste. This digestive power costs us 20 lbs. of hay a day. We can ill afford to let it lie dormant. But the Deacon will tell me that the cows are allowed all the food they will eat, winter and summer. Then we must, if they have digestive power to spare, endeavor to persuade them to eat more. If they eat as much hay or grass as their stomachs are capable of holding, we must endeavor to give them richer hay or grass. Not one farmer in a thousand seems to appreciate the advantage of having hay or grass containing a high percentage of nutriment. I have endeavored to show that a cow eating six tons of hay, or its equivalent, in a year, would produce 400 lbs. of cheese, worth $60. While a cow capable of eating, digesting, and turning to good account, nine tons of hay, or its equivalent, would produce 1,090 lbs. of cheese, or its equivalent in other products, worth $162.
“I am sorry to interrupt the gentleman,” said the Deacon with mock gravity.
“Then pray don’t,” said I; “I will not detain you long, and the subject is one which ought to interest you and every other farmer who keeps his cows on poor grass in summer, and corn-stalks and straw in winter.”