The farmer.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1857, 31 May 1884, Page 6

The farmer.

We have heard a good deal lately of the heavy fleeces cut by the American merino sheep, but the following extract puts a somewhat different complexion upon those glowing accounts, and as it is taken from a friendly source it is of all the more value as information :—: — Hkayy. Fleeces. — Mr. J. S. Woodward's at- ( tention, as he states in the N. Y. Tribime, was lately called to the abundant enthusiasm of a writer over the very great improvement made in sheep in the past fifty years, and the writer cited as instances the weight of fleeces produced the past season. A Michigan sheep had shorn a fleece of over 41 pounds ; a New York sheep, one of 40 pounds ; a yearling, one of 32 pounds ; and a ewe, one weighing nearly 27 pounds, and the writer urged every one to try and produce "such wonderful fleeces." Mr. Woodward asks if he did not know that fully seven-eights of the very heavy fleeces are only grease, yolk and dirt, and that two of these — grease and yolk — are produced at great expense to the vitality of the sheep ; that it takes as much feed to produce four pounds of these utterly worthless products as one pound of the finest wool or two pounds of meat, and knowing this fact, Mr. Woodward is surprised that he did not frankly say so in his article. He wonders how long the craze for wrinkles, grease and yolk will continue before some man will show sufficient independence, enterprise and sense of practical utility to strike out in a new departure and try what can be done in breeding sheep, first for wool and, secondly, for mutton, and not as now, first for grease, secondly for wool, and thirdly for meat. TnE Marks on a Cow's Horn.— The N. Y. Times remarks that the marks upon the horns of a cow indicate her age, and not, as some misguided persons would have us believe, the number of calves she may have had. As these marks or rings are the same upon the horns of an ox or bull as upon those of a cow it cannot be the calves which cause them. At two years old a wrinkle may be found forming at the base of the horn, and as the horn grows the next year this wrinkle is easily seen. This marks three years' growth. At 1 five years a second wrinkle appears. After that one appears every year until at the age of 11 or 12 the wrinkles are smaller and closer and less conspicuous, and some of the earliest will have been worn away. The horns are no guide to the age after thirteen years, nor are i the teeth, as the condition of these depends j on the amount of pasturing done, the good- j ness or the badness of the pasture or the sandy | or clayey character of the soil. Recording Cows' Performances. — From the Dairy we take the following amusing j illustration of the necessity for keeping strict , account of each cow's produce : — j I was milking in the barn when young Squire Lawton came in. I lifted up the pail and hung it on the spring balance. " Just 13 pounds," said I, and marked it on the little board on the wall just opposite where the cow stood. " What do you do that for ? " said he. " Why, I always count, measure, and weigh ever j thing on this farm," said I. "My father taught me that when I was a boy." " But what's the use here ?" said he. "You have all the milk, and no one can chea* you." " Don't you be sure of that. Now look here. You see this board. That's Topsy's milk account. Here you see is 17 pounds, I(s£ pounds, 18 pounds, and then comes 11 pounds. That struck me all of a heap, and I went right there and then to Topsy to see what waB the mattei. Her nose was hot and diy and her mouth was slobbering, and she was not eatiug. I soon found what was the matter. She had been chewing the fence rails, and a big splinter was jammed into her : mouth between her teeth, and her jaw was ! swelled badly. Now, I mightn't have founsl ! that out for two or three days if I hadn't j weighed the milk. But you see I soon set her light again. £ saved a good deal of trouble by it. And tken look here. Here is 13£ pounds, 15 pounds, 17 pounds, 12 pounds, 11 pounds, 14 pounds, and then here you see is only six-and-one-half pounds, and all down six-and-one-half pounds, seven pounds, seven-and-one-half pounds, five pounds, five-and-one-half pounds. Now look at that cow. She's pretty, ain't she ? But bless you, handsome is as handsome does, and that cow don't stay here any longer than she is fat enough for beef ; for she ain't half handsome enough for a dairyman to keep. Then you see these glasses. These are to measure the cream by. A. cow that won't give 15 per cent, of cream won't pay to keep with the feed I give them ; and a heifer that won't make 10 per cent, won't pay to raise, and is only good to sell to those who sell milk. Now, how could I tell all this if I didn't weigh and measure? See here ; this is the feed measure ; one of these goes on to the feed for every cow at eveiy meal, and that scoop holds just two quarts. This basket holds a full bushel and every cow gets that full every feed. And two or three get a scoopful more. You see, it's all brought down to rule. No thumb rule either, but weights and measures every time. A man that don't weigh and measure everything about a dairy can't tell what he is doing, and it's just as easy for him to lose a dollar a day as it is to fall off a log. Now, my boy, put that wrinkle on your horn. It's worth a thousand dollars to you if you don't forget it, but you are welcome to it for nothing."