CHAPTER VII
THE FORTUNE IN KEEPING A COW
While Janet had been occupied at the chicken yard, Frances had brought home the “Stock Farmer’s Catalogue” that Janet had written for. It had come in the morning’s mail and now was on the porch table. Janet caught it up eagerly and sat down to pore over the pages. Soon she was deeply interested in reading about cows.
She read that the profit in keeping a cow was enormous. Saying that one cow milked but the minimum quantity of twelve quarts of milk a day—which was very little for a good cow (so the book said) one could have all the pure milk needed in the home, your floods of rich cream over berries and cereal, and have cream for coffee at breakfast time; make butter, and drink refreshing butter milk on warm summer days, and still have enough milk, cream, butter and buttermilk to sell to the neighbors to pay for the keep of the cow.
“My, I never dreamed that money was so easy to make as all this!” sighed Janet to herself, as she wondered why she had been led into spending her capital for hens and pigs and had never thought seriously of a cow!
She took a sheet of paper from the book and having a stump of a pencil in her pocket, she began figuring.
“We are paying Ames sixteen cents a quart for milk. He sells us four quarts a day for the house, and I have to buy two to four extra for those pigs. I suppose Miss Mason gets about four quarts for her scouts besides. That totals ten to twelve quarts.
“If I keep a cow, I can sell all that milk to the other girls and give my pigs skim-milk, ’cause this book says skim-milk is as good for them as pure milk. That’s sixteen times twelve every day.
“This book says I can get about ninety cents a quart for the heavy cream and about sixty for light cream. I don’t know the difference, but I will accept those figures. That’s ninety plus sixty cents more, every day. That makes one ninety-two for milk and one fifty for cream—two dollars and forty cents every day. Then there is my saving of milk for the pigs, and the money made on the butter I might churn once or twice a week. Oh, what a fortune!”
Janet rocked in the chair as she sighed and rolled her eyes skyward as if for inspiration of ways or means to find a cow. Then she turned her attention to the book, once more.
“It says here that a bag of feed will cost about three dollars and a bag lasts about twelve days. That will make three bags a month—about nine dollars for feed. Then the life insurance, accident and illness costs about a dollar a month. But that is a good idea—to insure the cow!” Janet sat approving the insurance plan and then and there determined to heavily insure the life of her cow.
“Well, that’s all it will cost, and just balance that with the income! Phew, it seems almost incredible!” murmured Janet as she studied the figures.
“That money looks almost like profiteering, but it isn’t a bit!” declared Janet to herself. “Even if I sell the milk for fifteen cents a quart to Jimmy and the scouts, I will have a great big balance of profit. I’ll sell it for fifteen because I’ll be using the farm pastures and cow sheds on the place, and I will have to call on the scouts, now and then, to show me how to milk and churn the butter, so I will give them that cent a quart off the retail price.” Janet now began to consider herself a philanthropist.
“Besides the cheap milk the scouts get, I will send them a pot cheese, once in a while, and all the buttermilk they like.” But Janet suddenly thought of the prices charged in the city for fresh buttermilk, so she decided not to be too generous in giving away the buttermilk, but reserve that privilege for a later day.
“Butter is worth sixty-five cents a pound at Four Corners, but I don’t think Tompkins’s butter is as sweet as it might be,” was Janet’s criticism when she pictured the rich golden butter she would turn out of that churn!
“I don’t know how much butter a quart of milk makes, but say I can get ten pounds of butter a week, that makes six dollars and fifty cents for butter. Dear me! Just think of it! All that money and the cow only costs on an average of fifteen dollars a month to keep her in fine condition.”
When Janet got as far as this in her financial calculations, Mrs. James came out on the porch to see what she was so exultant about.
“Can you sit down a moment, Jimmy, and listen to this?” asked Janet, flushed with the thrill of soon being a millionaire.
“Two moments, if you need them,” smiled Mrs. James.
“Well, then, just listen to this. It’s true, too!” and Janet began painting a word-picture in such alluring colors as to cause her hearer to wonder what it all meant.
“No farm is really a farm, you know, Jimmy, until there is a cow on the place. Think of the rural delight of driving a gentle-eyed bovine creature to the pasture early in the morning while the dew is still sparkling upon every blade of verdure. Now feel the warm glow about the heart when you call for the cow at eventide and find her eagerly lowing at the gate of the pasture—eager to follow you home. Then the gratitude she pours out to you by means of pure, frothy milk—pouring into and filling full twelve-quart pails every day as a token of her thanks.”
Janet had to stop a moment for lack of breath, so Mrs. James took advantage of the enforced pause to say: “Is this the preface to a book you are writing, Janet, or are you planning to buy a cow on instalments and need me to endorse the promissory note for you?”
“Oh, Jimmy, please don’t interrupt my thought until I am quite through!” exclaimed Janet, reprovingly.
“I beg your pardon, Janet—I thought your train of thought was broken,” was Mrs. James’s amused reply.
“No, the most important part of the idea is coming: rows of figures! That’s what talks better than I can explain.” Then Janet spread out the sheet of paper upon which she had figured and explained each column of numerals—added, subtracted and multiplied; a few were divided to reach the desired results.
“Now, this column is what it costs to keep a cow, Jimmy. And this next column is what I can make by selling the milk. I based my computation on the minimum of twelve quarts of milk per day, which is really too little for a good cow, you know. Then the third column is what I can get for butter, cream and buttermilk. The skim-milk I shall have to give to the pigs, so I can’t sell that. But just look at the profit I can get out of one cow!” Janet watched Mrs. James’s expression eagerly to see the effect of that astounding fortune so plainly shown in the figures—on paper.
Before committing herself, Mrs. James took the paper and studied it. Then she remarked casually: “You forgot to jot down the initial cost of buying a cow, Janet. How can you count on the cost of fifteen dollars a month if you haven’t secured the cow?”
Janet’s face showed her chagrin. “That’s so! I forgot all about the cost of the cow. But she doesn’t cost very much, does she?”
“I am not sure what they cost today, because everything has advanced so outrageously. But I know that a good cow which is guaranteed to give twelve quarts of milk per day used to sell for a hundred dollars—before the war.”
“O-n-e H-U-N-D-R-E-D Dol-lars!” gasped Janet.
“That was back in 1913. I haven’t the least idea what one costs today.”
“Oh!” was all Janet said as she collapsed in the middle and drooped over in the chair.
“We might buy an old one that gives less milk, for less money,” ventured Mrs. James.
“No,” sighed Janet, hopelessly. “It doesn’t pay to buy old stock! I’m beginning to learn that much. I used old eggs to hatch out and I lost more than a week’s valuable time by it. If I buy an old cow just because she is cheap, I shall have funeral bills to pay, and the insurance costs more on old lives.”
Mrs. James could not restrain a hearty laugh at Janet’s words, although she knew the girl was very serious over the matter.
“I guess I’ll stick to the pigs and chickens this year, and save money so I can buy a cow next year—because that’s where my fortune can be made!” declared Janet, resignedly.
Mrs. James now began to think very seriously so Janet got up and stretched herself before saying: “I think I’ll go to the barn yard and watch my pigs improve.”
She spoke sarcastically, but Mrs. James said: “I just had an idea. Will you leave that paper with me for a time? I want to look it over.”
“Certainly! Keep it forever. I will not need it again—My! one cow, more than one hundred dollars!” With this muttered expression of disgust, Janet walked away. She was passing the kitchen door when Rachel came out.
“Janet, I’se got to have one ob dem aigs back agin. I has to use one moh in my cake. Kin you git it foh me?”
“Yes, but you warned me about touching the eggs once they were under the hen. And you said it was not good to annoy the hen once she sat contentedly upon the eggs.”
“Yeh, I knows. Anyway, run to the hen house and see if mebbe dey ain’t jus’ one egg in dem nestes,” urged Rachel, anxiously.
“Maybe one of those lazy, good-for-nothing hens changed her mind by this time, Rachel, but I doubt it very much,” laughed Janet.
Rachel stood watching her go down the lane, and she smiled broadly as she returned to the kitchen to bake the cake. Janet went over to one of the newly filled straw nests without any hope of finding anything there. But the moment she spied two smooth eggs beside the china egg in the nest, she gave such a war whoop of joy that every chicken in the runway started calling and the cock began crowing with fear.
She was about to race from the hen house when she remembered to look in the remaining nests. To her added delight and astonishment she found four more eggs.
“Well, well! This isn’t as bad as I thought it was. I suppose the hens are becoming accustomed to the change from Ames’s farm to Green Hill, and they like it better now,” soliloquized Janet as she skipped joyously along the walk.
“Rachel! Oh, Rachel! I got six eggs—all fresh and clean!” cried Janet when she came near enough to the house to be heard by the cook.
Rachel ran out upon the stoop to express her amazement, and Janet said: “How much are six strictly fresh eggs, Rachel. I am not going to charge Jimmy as much as Ames does.”
Rachel looked stunned. She had not thought of being charged for the eggs when she took them out of the box and placed them in the nests, yet she knew it would be dishonest to expect Mrs. James to pay for them out of Natalie’s money.
“Mis’ James knows what dey is wuth,” was all she said, as she took the eggs and put them back in the basket whence they had been so recently taken.
Janet had hurried to the porch and now led Mrs. James out to the kitchen to show her the wonderful eggs.
When they went back to the side porch, Mrs. James said: “Janet, this is the idea I had when you spoke about the cow. If you cannot afford to buy one for yourself, why not form a company and every one at Green Hill own a share in the cow. It will be easier for you as a cow makes lots of work that you do not dream of, and with seven of us to do the work neither will be overtaxed. We would all take turns. One would drive the cow to pasture in the morning, another bring her home at night. One must keep the pails and pans clean, another look after the feed. Still another will milk and another churn butter. Every week we will change about so that each one gets an opportunity to learn how to do all the work.”
“But who will get the profit? and who will buy the cow?” wondered Janet, the idea not altogether displeasing as long as she felt she could not own the cow herself.
“If seven of us pay, it is only seven times into one hundred. I think we all can manage to pay that much for the returns we shall get. And I thought of asking Mr. Marvin to advance us the cash now and let us pay him back in weekly payments.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea! I think he will do it, too.”
“We can sell to the house and the Camp the products we need that we now are buying from Ames and Four Corners’ store, and that money will go into our fund. Then, when butter is made, you can buy the skim-milk for your pigs at a small price. What do you say?”
“I say it is great! Let’s go and tell the other girls!” cried Janet, eagerly.
As Mrs. James led the way over to Norma’s flower beds where that worker was digging and planting without stopping to mop her perspiring brow, Janet thought to herself “This old world isn’t such a bad place to live in, after all!”
What a difference a few eggs and a plan for a cow made in her sense of things. Yet everything was really unchanged, in fact. For the old hens were no different than they were when Janet purchased them from Ames, and the fun and fortune to be had from the cow was but the vision created by a few cheerful words from a sympathetic friend. Still, if we must dream at all, let us have happy dreams instead of nightmares.
The proposition of syndicating a cow was met with hilarity at first, from every girl spoken to; but they found cause to consider the matter as an interesting one.
“We’ve got a ready-made farm and acres of free grass, so why not keep a cow?” said Natalie.
“If we expect to be real farmers, we have to have a cow,” was Norma’s comment.
“And think of the money saved on milk and other things that a cow makes,” was Frances’ reply.
“The butter is churned!” corrected Janet, with superior wisdom for had she not read that book on stock-raising. “The cow merely gives the milk, she doesn’t make anything else.”
“Well, then, who does make the milk if she merely gives it,” retorted Frances, thereby creating a laugh at Janet’s expense.
“When you think of all the money we can make and still have cream and butter for our own use, it seems too good to be true,” said Belle.
“Can’t we get one tomorrow, Jimmy?” asked Natalie.
“I suppose it is too late to look about for one to-day, eh?” asked Janet.
“We’ll plan to drive through the country tomorrow morning and hunt about for a likely beast,” replied Mrs. James.
“I don’t suppose Farmer Ames has a cow for sale, has he?” asked Janet. “If we got it of him we’d be able to charge it.”
“Why, Jan! You surely wouldn’t buy anything else of him, would you? Just look at those useless hens and rooster! They never laid an egg since you’ve had ’em!” exclaimed Natalie.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you, girls. The chickens laid six fine eggs today, so Ames’s couldn’t help it if they took a week to finish the eggs,” said Janet.
“That’s something like it, Jan! Now we can have fresh eggs for breakfast every morning,” said Belle.
“Anyway, I’d rather pay cash for the cow than feel as if we had to buy everything from Ames!” was Natalie’s comment.
They had been standing near the field fence of Natalie’s garden as they planned. Now they saw the girl scouts from Solomon’s Seal Camp coming up the hill toward the house. They watched them as Janet said: “Let Jimmy tell them the surprise.”
As soon as Miss Mason and her scouts joined the other group, therefore, Mrs. James told them about the Cow Company. At first they laughed even as the girls before them had done, but the suggestion was acceptable from many points of view, and Miss Mason said: “I wish we could own shares in the cow.”
Mrs. James looked from one to the other of her girls and finding they approved of the idea just expressed, she said: “We might sell each one of you one share in our cow—when we get her!”
“Oh, I have it! Listen to this: Let’s form a real stock company incorporated on the cow for the asset. We’ll divide it into shares of so much a share. No stockholder can own more than one share, then we won’t feel jealous of each other. We will pay all costs out of the capital paid in for stock and we will pay all dividends twice a month, from the money we take in from camp and from the house and from Janet’s pigs. Now, how is that?” Natalie’s exultant face showed what she thought of her plan.
The others laughed at the very idea of incorporating a cow, and Mrs. James remarked humorously: “Natalie inherits the gift of high finance.”
It was the first time any one had referred to her father in the girl’s presence, and this mention of Mr. Averill’s business ability proved that Natalie had quite overcome her morbid sorrow that she had entertained in the city. Now she laughed gayly and said: “If I take after Daddy I’ll be a great financial magnate soon!”
“Oh, please don’t get switched from our cow, girls!” said Janet, anxiously.
“I’ve heard it said that cows have a dreadful habit of switching their tails in your face while you milk them,” said Belle.
“Cows have lots of tricks that you never learn until they are practiced upon you,” laughed Miss Mason.
“Some cows horn you,” ventured Norma, fearfully.
This caused a laugh, and again Janet begged: “Come, let’s get back to the business. Do we syndicate this cow or only have partners?”
“We might take a ballot on the question before the Chair,” laughed Mrs. James.
“No, it is either ‘aye’ or ‘nay’—from every one,” said Natalie, and the “ayes” had it unanimously.
“All right, then. We’ll proceed to the house and I’ll draw up an agreement such as I have often seen Daddy do. Then we’ll have one of the scout artists make us each a share of stock with a cow’s head at the top for our emblem. How much shall we charge for each share of stock?” As Natalie finished speaking she glanced around at the circle of smiling faces.
“Better find out first how much the cow will cost. We may not have enough money in the treasury to pay for her, if we collect payments now for the stock and do not collect enough,” was Janet’s sensible suggestion.
“When Natalie finishes that arduous task of drawing up a corporation agreement, I will read you something from the book ‘Scouting for Girls’ which you may not have read very carefully,” remarked Miss Mason.
Mrs. James went for the book and when it was handed the Captain of Solomon’s Seal Camp, she opened the book at page 507, and read:
Dairy Maid. Symbol—Milking Stool.
As Miss Mason concluded reading the article, the girls looked at each other, and one of them said: “Who can answer those questions?”
Then it developed that three of the girl scouts of Solomon’s Seal could not only reply correctly to the questions, but could give more valuable information than was expected of them. Miss Mason knew they had been born and reared on farms, but the girls under Mrs. James’s care were not aware of it.
“That simplifies our troubles with the cow, right off,” declared Janet. “We’ll ask the three wise ones to show us how to do things right.”
“And Rachel and I will umpire the contests of milking and churning,” added Mrs. James.
“Now that we have decided to form a corporation do you not think the three village scouts should be invited to take a share in the cow, if they so desire?” suggested Miss Mason.
“Oh, of course! We forgot all about them,” said Natalie.
“We’ll invite them to join us when Frances drives to Four Corners this afternoon,” added Janet.
“Those girls can milk a cow like anything! And they all can churn butter, too,” announced Norma.
“If we keep on adding members to our stock company the poor cow will be divided into minutest pieces to enable each stock owner to hold a share,” remarked Mrs. James laughingly.
“Well, the more shares we have to make of the cow the less each one will cost us,” said Natalie.
“And the less our dividends will be, too,” added Janet
“Whether we get dividends or not, we will have our milk, butter and cream, right at hand all the time. And if we want to sell the cow in the Fall we can get our money back again,” said Miss Mason.
“If we haven’t killed her before then,” was Belle’s pessimistic reply.
“If we kill her we can collect insurance, you know,” and this remark from Janet caused a general laugh.
After many other interesting details were discussed and decided upon, it was planned that the hunt for the cow would begin the following morning. Miss Mason was delegated to act for the Camp girls as the automobile would not hold all of the scouts. Miss Mason accepted the responsibility with a speech, and then the two groups parted. The scouts went back to camp and the farm girls went to look after their individual tasks.