I ought to say that the calves had the first claim to the skim-milk; but as we never kept many for more than a few weeks, this claim was easily satisfied. It was like the bonds of a corporation,--the first claim, but a comparatively small one. The hens came next; they held preferred stock, and always received a five-pound, semi-daily dividend to each pen of forty. The growing pigs came last; they held the common stock, which was often watered by the swill and dish-water from both houses and the buttermilk and butter-washing from the dairy. I hold that the feeding value of skim-milk is not less than forty cents a hundred pounds, as we use it at Four Oaks. This seems a high price when it can often be bought for fifteen cents a hundred at the factories; but I claim that it is worth more than twice as much when fed in perfect freshness,--certainly $4 a day would not buy the skim-milk from my dairy, for it is worth more than that to me to feed. This by-product is essential to the smooth running of my factory. Without it the chickens and pigs would not grow as fast, and it is the best food for laying hens,--nothing else will give a better egg-yield. The longer my experiment continues, the stronger is my faith that the combination of cow, hog, and hen, with fruit as a filler, are ideal for the factory farm. With such a plant well-started and well-managed, and with favorable surroundings, I do not see how a man can prevent money from flowing to him in fair abundance. The record of the fourth quarter is as follows:-- Butter $1126.00 Eggs 351.00 Hogs 1807.00 -------- Total $3284.00 CHAPTER XLVII NABOTH'S VINEYARD >One hazy, lazy October afternoon, as my friend Kyrle and I sat on the broad porch hitting our pipes, sipping high balls, and watching the men and machines in the corn-fields, as all toiling sons of the soil should do, he said:-- "Doctor, I don't think you've made any mistake in this business." "Lots of them, Kyrle; but none too serious to mend." "Yes, I suppose so; but I didn't mean it that way. It was no mistake when you made the change." "You're right, old man. It's done me a heap of good, and Polly and the youngsters were never so happy. I only wish we had done it earlier." "Do you think I could manage a farm?" "Why, of course you can; you've managed your business, haven't you? You've grown rich in a business which is a great sight more taxing. How have you done it?" "By using my head, I suppose." "That's just it; if a man will use his head, any business will go,--farming or making hats. It's the gray matter that counts, and the fellow that puts a little more of it into his business than his neighbor does, is the one who'll get on." "But farming is different; so much seems to depend upon winds and rains and frosts and accidents of all sorts that are out of one's line."