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A VISIT TO A FARM HOUSE; OR, AN INTRODUCTION TO VARIOUS SUBJECTS CONNECTED WITH RURAL ECONOMY.

EMBELLISHED WITH BEAUTIFUL PLATES.

LONDON: WILLIAM DARTON, 58, HOLBORN HILL. And to be had of all Booksellers.

PREFACE

This little Work was undertaken to excite the attention of those children, who live in the country, to the various objects by which they are surrounded; and to furnish those residing in the metropolis and other large cities, with some information relative to rural economy, which their situation prevents them acquiring by personal observation.

The author acknowledges that she is totally incompetent deeply to discuss the phenomena of nature, or the science of agriculture; she should indeed think it inconsistent to introduce scientific researches into a Work of this kind. But a slight investigation of the simple arts by which the nourishment of man is effected, or of some of those wonders of creative power which daily present themselves to view, cannot, in her opinion, be deemed an improper exercise even at an early age.

VISITS TO A FARM HOUSE.

Leave being given, they tripped along by the side of the good old servant; but both stood at some distance behind when they came near the cows, as they felt rather afraid of going close to such large animals. "Why, now, masters, what is there to be afraid of?" said Ralph, who found they had left off talking and suddenly shrunk back. "The cows will not hurt you, if you do not hurt them." "Don't they sometimes toss people with their great horns?" asked Charles. "Here and there you may meet with a vicious one," replied the man, "but in common they are very gentle."

The little Bensons then recovered from their fears, and wanted to milk the cows themselves. The trial was made, and they were surprised to find that they were not able to do it as well as Ralph. Had they been older, they would have known that there are many things which are easy to those who are accustomed to do them, that one who had never tried would find difficult.

"Pray, Ralph," asked Arthur, "why has the young calf that thing full of spikes round his mouth? See, he wants to suck the black cow, and she will not let him. Cannot you take it off?"

"Oh no, master Arthur, it is time the calf should be weaned. He is old enough now to eat grass, and we want the milk for the dairy; so we put the spikes on him, and because of them, as they would hurt her, the mother will not let him suck any more."

"Is he to be killed?" inquired Charles.

"Not at present," replied the old man. "Master means to keep him to draw in the team."

"To draw in the team!" said Charles with some surprise.

"Yes," returned Ralph; "we have always a team of oxen. You may see them ploughing in that field yonder; just there," continued he, pointing with his finger, "beyond the holly hedge."

"I see them; I see them," said Arthur. "Poor creatures! how slow they go! Are not they tired, Ralph?" "No, sir," replied Ralph, "they do not move so quick as horses; but they are vastly stronger. And though it is not always quite so easy to manage them, yet on the whole they answer very well."

Ralph had now finished milking: and taking the little boys into the stable, he showed them a baby calf, as he called it, that was to be sold to the butcher the next day.

"O you pretty little thing!" said Arthur. "Only look, Charles, at these spots on its back. I should like to have it for my own. Why must it be killed, pray?"

At this moment Mr. Mansfield came into the stable.

"We were talking about this poor calf, grandpapa," said Charles. "Ralph says it is to be killed to-morrow to make veal. I am sorry for it; it has such a pretty coat!"

"And what becomes of the hair?" asked Charles.

"After the hide has been soaked for a long time," replied Mr. Mansfield, "it comes off easily, and is put into that kind of mortar which is used to plaster walls, in order to keep them from crumbling and falling away. Did you never see in a white wall broken down in part, a heap of short hairs, and here and there perhaps a little loose piece of mortar hanging to them?"

Arthur said he had, but he did not know it was cow-hair; and added, he could not have thought it could have been of any use.

"Every thing is of use, my dear," said Mr. Mansfield. "I doubt if you can name a part of the cow that will not turn to some account."

"What the hoofs, grandpapa?" said Charles.

"Yes, Charles," returned Mr. Mansfield. "The hoofs and the parings of the skin, by being boiled down to a strong jelly, make the glue which carpenters use to join things together."

Mrs. Mansfield, hearing how much her little grandsons had been pleased with the cows, after breakfast took them into the dairy, to show them what was done with the milk which those useful animals give in such large quantities. The dairy was a little room with a brick floor, facing the north, and kept very cool, by means of a latticed window that let in fresh air. It was necessary that it should be built in that way, because heat soon turns milk sour. Round the room were fixed a sort of trays lined with lead, which then were all filled with milk.

"Grandmamma, what is to be done with this milk?" inquired Arthur.

"It is set for cream," answered Mrs. Mansfield; "and the cream will be made into butter."

Mrs. Mansfield pointed to a large barrel fixed on a stand, with a winch handle to turn it, and told him that was the churn. Charles was surprised, and said it was not at all like his sister's.

Mrs. Mansfield fetched a phial, and the two boys amused themselves a long time with their experiment. But they found that with all their pains they could not turn the whole into butter; their grandmamma told them there was always some waste; that it was called buttermilk, and given to the pigs.

Arthur and Charles, quite proud of their success, went to look for Rose, that they might tell her they could make butter as well as she. They found her in the dairy, where their attention was drawn to a new circumstance. Rose was standing before a large tub, full of a white substance rather thicker than jelly, which she was very diligently employed in breaking.

They forgot the butter they had intended to boast of, and both began to ask a variety of questions, which she answered with great good humour.

She then took a large round bag made of coarse cloth, into which she put all the curd, and pressed it with very heavy weights in order to squeeze out as much of the whey as she could. This done, she turned it out of the bag into a vat which has holes like a cullender, and, leaving it to drain, then told them the cheese was finished.

"I did not know," said Charles, "it was so easy to make cheese. But what is the rind, pray?"

"'Tis the same as the rest," replied Rose; "only, being left to the air, it grows hard in time." Then leading them into another room, she showed them a great number of cheeses; some were still soft, having been lately made; others, that had been longer kept, were grown quite hard.

"What is the whey good for?' asked Charles, as they came back through the dairy.

"We give it to the pigs," said Rose.

"Yes, master Arthur," said Rose, "you are right, for that is our way of making butter and cheese in this country: but in many places, where richer cheese is made, they use the milk without skimming off the cream; and to make good cream cheese, the cream only is used when skimmed from the milk."

When dinner-time came, it happened that there were brought to table some custards and gooseberry tarts, of which Charles was tempted to eat very greedily. He had already been twice helped, and the servant was going to carry away the remainder of a tart that had been left in the dish, when Charles, not satisfied whilst any remained, stopped him, and once more filled his plate with it.

The footman stared; and his grandpapa and grandmamma looked at him with surprise, but said nothing.

In the evening Mr. Mansfield led his grandsons into the yard, just at the time his man was giving the pigs their supper. Arthur and Charles were diverted at the eagerness with which the whole family squeaked and grunted over their food, which they devoured with the utmost haste, treading one over another as they scrambled for a share.

"O grandpapa," exclaimed Charles, "how droll it is to see the pigs eat! Look there! look there! One has got a cabbage leaf, and another wants it. Now it has got it away, and it eats it as fast as ever it can. And now it is come for more. I dare say they will soon empty the trough."

"Perhaps so," replied his grandpapa, smiling. "Pigs are as fond of cabbage leaves and bean stalks, as little boys are of gooseberry pie."

Charles blushed.

Charles softly answered, "Yes, sir."

"Well, I believe he is ashamed of his greediness," said Mr. Mansfield; "I only advise him another time to be more upon his guard for fear we should take him for a pig."

As they were sauntering about, a sow with a fine litter of pigs at her heels came across the yard.

"Pray, sir," asked Arthur, "how many pigs may a sow have at once?"

"From ten to twenty," said Mr. Mansfield. "But as she has not milk enough to suckle so many, she casts off some, and seldom brings up more than twelve."

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