Chapter 9

"No, Mr. White," replied Bob, "Aunt Bettie and I decided first on the size of the dairy herd. We thought that twenty cows would be as many as we would be able to take care of on a farm of the size of ours, if we do general farming. We have used a twenty-cow herd as the basis of our calculations. We found by reading the recommendations in the Government's bulletins, that in order to keep a dairy of good milk cows, it would be necessary to take care of five calves and five yearling heifers, and an old and a young bull in order to keep the herd up to maximum production. We figure that a herd of twenty Holstein cows ought to average two hundred quarts of milk daily. This would mean ten twenty-quart cans to take care of the milk, and, allowing for the ice, would require a trough nine feet by two feet six inches by two feet. If we separate the cream, of course, it wouldn't require such a large trough. But we used this as a basis of the dairy requirements. Then we found by looking up another Government bulletin that it would take about twenty tons of ice to take care of this milk, but we need ice around the farm for other things, too, so we decided to make the icehouse large enough for thirty tons. Aunt Bettie and I read all the bulletins we could get from the Government and then we looked up the different ones sent out by the Portland cement manufacturers, but we found they didn't exactly agree; besides, we felt that if we could build the icehouse inside of the dairy, the ice wouldn't melt so fast, so we've decided to make a combination building like this," he said, as he laid his plans before the banker. "We're going to put this building back of the woodshed where it will join the new cow barn."

"But isn't a twenty-cow herd pretty large for one man to handle, Bob?" asked the banker.

"No, Mr. White, you can get a two-unit milking machine now that will milk twenty to twenty-five cows in one hour and give a ninety-eight per cent. efficiency."

"How much will that cost, Bob?"

"We can get a complete two-unit outfit consisting of pump, air tanks, two milking units, installed in the barn, complete for $450."

"But you've only ten cows, now, Bob. Wouldn't that be too large for them?"

"No, Mr. White, the outfit is designed for from ten to twenty-five cows, and will do the milking twice as fast as by hand."

"That's right, Bob; put in machinery and cut down help. Let's see, that would save at least two hours a day for one man at, say thirty cents an hour, or $219 per year. You say the complete outfit costs $450, which amount at six per cent, interest would mean $27, or a saving of $192. Quite a saving, Bob."

"Have you laid out a general scheme for all your buildings?" asked the banker, much interested.

"Yes," replied Bob. "Aunt Bettie and I have figured out the size and location of all the new buildings we'll need for the farm. Here they are on this drawing," and he produced his general layout. "Of course, you know, Mr. White, we won't get them all at once, but we want to build each one as we go, so that it will be part of a definite scheme. Aunt Bettie says we mustn't make any mistakes in the placing of our buildings." "What does your Uncle Joe say about all these plans?" asked the banker.

"Well, Uncle Joe isn't very much interested just now, Mr. White. He thinks we're planning to spend too much money, but Aunt Bettie says it isn't so much the amount of money we spend, as the way in which it is spent that requires the planning."

"That's right," said the banker. "Do your thinking first and your building afterward, and then you won't have a lot of mistakes to work with all your life. I like the way you've laid these buildings out, Bob. You must have read a lot to get this idea. Where did you say the new hen house is to go?"

"Over here behind the cow barn. You see, Mr. White, our present buildings are all built facing the wrong way. We don't get the right exposure. Besides, Aunt Bettie and I think that the new house should set out where the old barn is at the present and the new barn should be out in the orchard back of the smokehouse. The trees in this orchard are old anyway, and it is about time they were cut down. That would make a good layout for all the buildings and have them conveniently connected. You see the new driveway comes up in the yard between the house and the barn, where it ought to be. That will make the general entrance to the house toward the barn and a garden entrance toward the main road."

"That's right, Bob; I'm glad to hear you talk about gardens. I think the finest thing on a farm, outside of making a profit," he added smiling, "are flowers."

"Well, the flowers are Aunt Bettie's idea," said Bob. "She says they've many nice gardens in New England, and that she wants to have one out here, and, of course, you know that'd be the southwest exposure, and just the place for a flower garden."

"What's this dotted line for, Bob?" asked the banker, pointing with his lead pencil.

"Oh, that's the water supply pipe from the spring on 'Old Round Top'," said Bob. "You see, we're planning to carry the water into all the buildings, so it won't be necessary to take the stock out to water in the winter. Of course, when we build the cow barn, we'll put in individual water bowls for each cow. Aunt Bettie and I are reading up on dairy barns now and when we come to build that we don't want any mistakes. We want it just as good and practical as it can be made, yet not too expensive."

"After you get the dairy house up, Bob, what's the next building you're going to build?"

"We want to build the hen house next, Mr. White," said Bob, "but it's a good deal of work for just Tony and I, working by ourselves, even though we do get up early in the morning. Besides, it'll soon be planting time and Uncle Joe will need me in the corn field."

"I was thinking of that, Bob," said the banker thoughtfully, tapping the table with the end of his pencil. "I wonder why it wouldn't pay your Uncle Joe to put on a man to help him and let you look after the buildings."

"Oh, but he couldn't afford that. Besides, I like to work at planting, too," replied Bob hastily. "Yes, that's so," said the banker, "but I think I told you, Bob, I want to see your Uncle Joe's farm a model one, and I don't want him to spend three or four years in fixing it up. Of course, the other farmers won't do theirs quite so quickly; they don't have sand pits on their farms, but there's so much to do to get these old farms on a paying basis that I want to see your uncle's farm finished up completely by the end of this year."

"But I'm sure Uncle Joe couldn't afford to go ahead with all the buildings, Mr. White," replied Bob in alarm, "and while Aunt Bettie and I would like to see them put up and have all the improvements made without waiting so long, it would cost a lot of money."

"Have you any idea, Bob, what these buildings will cost?" asked the banker a moment later.

"Not exactly, Mr. White, although we've made up some figures, using the prices given in the bulletins, and trying to figure out the cost of the concrete work ourselves. We think that the dairy house will cost $450; the hen house $1000; the cow barn $1500, and the main barn $2000. Then there's the new piggery and the concrete feeding floor that goes with it. The barn, of course, will have one or two silos--we haven't decided yet which will be best--and we want to put in a manure pit with a carrier system. And I want to make some concrete shelters for my bee hives. Then, of course, we'll need some equipment, such as a corn harvester and machine for filling the silos--these will cost about $500. We ought to have a new machinery shed to keep all the farming implements in, and I've been telling Uncle Joe we also need a shop with a forge for blacksmith work and some iron-working tools for making repairs to the farming implements, also a small carpenter shop. I want Tony to make some new bee hives for me during the winter. Say, you ought to hear Tony play, Mr. White," said Bob suddenly.

"Why, what does he play?" asked the banker.

"A flute," said Bob. "You just ought to hear him. He plays the nicest music I ever heard."

"Does he sing, too?" inquired the banker, interested.

"Yes, but it's in Italian and I don't understand what it's all about, except it's mostly about a bull fighter--he calls him a Toreador. You ought to hear him when we're out back of the barn some morning. He not only sings, but he acts it, too. He sticks the pitchfork into the straw stack, like as if it's a bull, and makes you believe he's killing it with a sword."

"That's from the opera Carmen," laughed the banker, at Bob's description of the Toreador Song. "Well, I guess he must be a man of some education if he can sing that. You better keep him around the place, Bob, if you can. But, coming back to the question of buildings, I think I'll speak to your Uncle Joe and see if we can't manage some way or other to let you work on the buildings so you can get them pushed along. As I told you, I want to see all your buildings up within a year."

"Oh, you don't mean it, Mr. White. You don't mean the new barns and all."

"Yes, everything, Bob," he replied.

"That would cost a lot of money," said Bob, frightened at the idea of spending so much.

"You seem to forget, Bob, that I told you the First National Bank was back of your Uncle Joe, and as long as we don't worry, he shouldn't. Besides, if your Uncle Joe doesn't make good, I'll charge it off to profit and loss against my 'Constructive Banking' scheme; but I'm not going to worry about that feature, Bob--I know your Uncle Joe is going to succeed. You go ahead with your dairy house and I'll drive out in a few days to see how you're coming along. Give my regards to your Aunt Bettie," he added, as he waved good-by to the departing boy.

XIII

VISITORS

The building of the dairy was the most interesting thing Bob had ever undertaken, and they had not proceeded very far until he began to realize what a valuable helper he had in Tony. Many times when he was at a loss to know how to proceed, Tony was ready with suggestions and seemed to know just what to do.

They made a careful list of all the material they needed, and a rough sketch of the doors and windows with all sizes marked on them; also the other equipment they would require. These Bob's uncle bought in town at a planning mill and hardware store. The most important of all was a seven cubic foot self-charging gasoline-driven concrete mixer of a type that Bob and Tony had decided would be the best for their use. The machine selected was not the cheapest one they could have bought, but it was the one that required the least amount of labor to operate and was a substantial, well-built machine, guaranteed for one year.

"Father says it always pays to buy a good tool, even if it costs a little more," Bob had advised his uncle when the latter questioned his selection, but his uncle had finally given in and the mixer had been purchased.

Bob was sure his uncle had had a plain talk with John White, the banker, for now, instead of objecting each time materials and tools were bought, he had readily consented.

"I want you to keep an account of all the material, time and money you spend, Bob, so when we're through we'll know exactly what each building costs," his uncle admonished. "I'm going to give all the bills for materials to you so you can check them up and see if we receive everything we order; then you can make a record of what it costs. John White said that when we're through he wants a detailed cost of the work, to know exactly what each building has cost us, and I think it's a good idea myself."

At the end of three weeks the dairy house was fully completed, including the painting, which Bob and Tony also did. Every day or two John White had driven out to the farm in the late afternoon to see how the work was progressing. A stranger might have thought that the building was being erected for him from the interest he took in everything that was done.

"I want to get posted on farm building construction, Bob," he remarked, one day when the building was nearly completed. "You see, I'm going to preach the gospel of modern buildings among our farmers and loan them money for their improvements, and I want to see how the thing is done. I want them to get rid of the continual cost of up- keep, to say nothing of the loss of time spent in repairing old buildings, time they could use to earn good American dollars. How soon are you going to start the hen house you were talking about?"

"We could start it this week," said Bob, "but Uncle Joe is talking about planting the corn."

"Don't you bother your head about that, Bob; your Uncle Joe and I've had a talk and have worked that out all right. If the sand pit holds out, your Uncle Joe pays the expenses, and if it doesn't hold out, I guess I'll be stuck," he laughed. "I want to see you devote all your time to getting these buildings up. Next year you can spend all the time you want raising crops."

"But won't that make a lot of work for Aunt Bettie?" said Bob, considering the matter. "She's pretty busy now, Mr. White."

"I was thinking of that, too. It isn't fair that your uncle should have all the help on his end. I only wish we knew where we could get a good woman to help her."

Tony, who was standing near, was listening closely to what was being said:

"Mr. Bob, I have-a no told you that I got-a da wife who live in-a da city, and I know she like-a da come and work for-a your Aunt Bettie. We got-a no-a da kids, and she like-a da country, like-a da me."

"That's a fine idea," said the banker, turning around quickly. "Where is she now, Tony?"

"She in Pittsburgh, wid her brud."

"Send for her right away, Tony," said the banker.

"All right, Mr. White, but I have no-a da mon."

"Oh, that's so, Tony. Well, we'll take care of that."

The banker left and returned a few minutes later and handed Tony $25.

"This is on account of your work, Tony."

"All right, I send-a da letter to-night," and Bob thought he saw a happy look in Tony's eyes as he thrust the money into his pocket and started to work again.

"Bob," said his aunt one morning, a few minutes after he had brought the mail up from the R. F. D. box on the main road, "I've some good news for you. We're going to have company; my two nieces who live in New England are coming to see us. One is Edith Atwood, my brother's daughter, who lives in Worcester, Massachusetts, and the other is Ruth Thomas, my sister's daughter, who lives near Wallingford, Connecticut. Ruth is eighteen and Edith will be eighteen in September. They finished high school last year and are both anxious to see our farm."

"When will they get here?" asked Bob, not pleased at the news and wondering what the coming of two girls might do to upset their plans for the improvement of the farm.

"They were not supposed to come before June," replied his aunt, seeing that Bob was not pleased, "but Ruth was so anxious to get into the country while we were planting that she persuaded Edith to come now. They'll be here on Saturday."

"That'll be day after to-morrow," exclaimed Bob, "the day I was planning to start work on the new hen house."

"Well, you needn't stop on their account, Bob," replied his aunt. "I'll drive in and get them. I know how anxious you are to get the hen house started, now that you have Tony to help you."

All day Bob kept turning over in his mind the invasion of his domain by two girls. Now, why couldn't the visitors have been boys instead of girls, then he could have enlisted their services in the construction of the new buildings. What could he not do with two willing boys to help him? Why must these visitors be girls instead of boys, he thought. They would probably sit around the house all day, reading magazines, or want him to leave his work to drive them about in the car. He felt sure the best part of the day, the evening hour they all spent together in the sitting room, discussing their plans, would now be spoiled.

The next day he took the tractor with two trailing wagons and began hauling sand and gravel from the pit to the site of the hen house. The operator of the steam shovel loaded the wagons for him and this saved much time for two shovelfuls made a load. By noon they had brought up twenty loads, enough to make a start on the foundations. He again appreciated the convenience of having the water piped to this building, the same as to the dairy house, for a short hose gave them all the water they needed, when and where they needed it, and with the cement stored in the wagon shed near by they had all the materials they required to begin work. Bob took his tape line and with Tony holding the ring against the fence that divided the south field from the barnyard, measured off fifty feet and drove a peg. Then going eighty rods along the fence, measured out fifty feet again and drove another peg. He was careful to keep the tape line as nearly square with the fence as possible. They now stretched a line between the two pegs and coming within a few feet from the first one, set up a batter board three feet long, and at right angles to the line--the same as they had done with the dairy house foundations. Then they measured off two hundred and fifty-two feet along the line and set up another batter board in the same manner. This done, they put in two other batter boards at right angles with the first, but eighteen inches back of the line. They drove two nails in these boards, exactly two hundred and fifty feet apart. They then placed another line parallel to and twenty feet away from the first one with similar batter boards, and located the other end of the cross lines on the boards. With a ten- foot pole and using the six, eight and ten method, they squared the lines, and located the ends of the buildings.

Bob then marked under the line with heavy black pencil the letters "B. L."--meaning building line. This done they drove other nails in each batter board six inches outside of the building line to locate the outside of the footing, and removed the lines to these nails. From these new lines they measured back twenty inches and drove other nails, locating the inner edge of the footings.

Bob placed a large black letter "F" under each nail to designate the edge of footings. They now took their picks and dug a small score in the ground directly under all the lines, thus marking out correctly on the ground the outer and inner edge of the footings. As the elevation of the ground at the northwest corner was the highest, they set a grade stake with the top six inches above the ground at that point and from this stake set other stakes at ten-foot intervals in the center of the footings all around the building, using the twelve-foot level board and mason's level to establish the correct elevation.

They took down their lines, wound them up carefully and laid them aside for further use. Bob decided, in order to keep the frost from getting under the walls, they'd have to place the footings three feet below the finished grade. In order to throw the water away from the buildings, it would also be necessary to make a fall of six inches on the high corner. This would make the trench for the footings two feet, six inches deep at that point, and as there was a drop of eight inches to the southeast corner, the trench there would be one foot, ten inches deep. Between the grade stakes they now dug out a section the full width of the footings and about three feet long, and located the exact bottom of the trench by measuring down three feet from the under side of the level board as it rested on two of the grade stakes.

They threw the excavated earth inside of the building to bring the floor up to grade, and when the depth holes were completed they dug out the sections between them, leveling the intervening space by their eyes.

Bob was so interested in the new building that he and Tony went back and worked until dark, so as to have the excavation ready for footings in the morning.

"I'm going to scold you for breaking the Union rules, Bob," laughed his aunt, when he came into the sitting room a few minutes after eight o'clock. "You know we decided not to work after six o'clock."

"Yes, I know we did, Aunt Bettie," said Bob, "but I was so anxious to get the excavation done, ready for concreting to-morrow."

"Well, I suppose if I could command the sun to stand still, like Joshua of old, you wouldn't be willing to stop until the whole job was done," she laughed. "How long do you think we could remain happy here if we all began working from daylight until dark? Life would soon become a burden, and you'd be the first one to leave for the city, Bob. Besides, if we keep long working hours, we'll miss our pleasant evenings together, and I'm not willing to give them up," she smiled at him across the table. "I guess you're right, Aunt Bettie," he replied, as he sat down in a chair, too tired to read. "I won't do it again."

The next morning Bob had his chores and milking done by six o'clock and by six-thirty he was out at the new hen house, where he was joined by Tony.

"Good-a morn, Mr. Bob," smiled Tony. "This-a the day we make-a da concrete fast."

"That's what we will," replied Bob. "Get some cement, Tony, and we'll start the mixer going right away."

While Tony was getting the cement, Bob filled his six cubic foot measure with sand and gravel, and on top of these he placed one bag of cement, then he started the engine and the elevator emptied the load into the drum, which, as soon as he added the water, he set revolving. When the concrete was thoroughly mixed, he threw the dumping lever over and filled the wheelbarrow that Tony placed under the discharging end of the drum.

By the time Tony had dumped the three barrows of concrete into the trench, Bob had another batch ready for the machine, and while this was being mixed Tony leveled off the concrete in the trench even with the grade stakes, set in the trench six inches above the bottom.

By night the footings were completed. They now located and dug the footings for the piers of the cross partitions and concreted them, so as to give the cement of the main footings a chance to set up before they began putting the forms on top of them. They could have saved the forms below grade by making the excavation the exact width of the foundation wall, but they felt this was poor economy, for the work was uncertain and rough, and the extra labor caused by trying to fit the forms to the sloping ground would more than offset the little saving; besides, it took more cement to fill in irregular trenches than it did ones of exact size. They had taken the forms they used for the dairy house foundation, together with some new sections, and set them up on the new footing, using wooden spreaders for holding them the right distance apart and placing heavy wires through the hole in the forms, the ends of which encircled a pin and were twisted up tight securing the forms firmly together.