now you should delay
Until about the first of May.
Then cows do feed on grassy field
And rich milk they abundant yield.
Ontario cannot compete
With the Northwest in raising wheat,
For cheaper there they it can grow
So price in future may be low.
Though this a hardship it may seem,
Rejoice that you have got the cream,
In this land of milk and honey,
Where dairy farmers do make money.
Utensils must be clean and sweet,
So cheese with first class can compete,
And daily polish up milk pans,
Take pains with vats and with milk cans.
And it is important matter
To allow no stagnant water,
But water from pure well or stream
The cow must drink to give pure cream.
Canadian breeds ’tis best to pair
With breeds from the shire of Ayr,
They thrive on our Canadian feed
And are for milking splendid breed.
Though ’gainst spring cheese some do mutter,
Yet spring milk also makes bad butter,
Then there doth arise the query
How utilize it in the dairy:
The milk it floats in great spring flood
Though it is not so rich and good,
Let us be thankful for this stream
Of milk and also curds and cream.
All dairymen their highest aims
Should be to make the vale of Thames,
Where milk doth so abundant flow,
Dairyland of Ontario.
Cheese buyers in hours of leisure
Combine business with pleasure,
And when they wish to go abroad
They take their gun and fishing rod.
This tale is true we pledge our word,
They baited hook with a piece of curd,
And let the rod hang from the boat,
While curd and hook on pond did float.
And then they start for sport and fun,
To try their luck with the shot gun,
And quick they raised from their cover,
Then brought low eight brace of plover.
Now to the pond they do return,
But loss of rod they have to mourn,
They see it rushing through the water,
And wonder what can be the matter.
But the courage of young Grant,
It did not for a moment daunt,
Though rod it now is far beyond,
He plunged into deep, cold spring pond.
And seized his rod and then drew out
A beauteous seven pound trout,
Which had grown from the seed
From spawn of California breed.
And Californian in its greed,
On the sweet curd wished to feed;
But, alas, for it’s sad fate,
It swallowed hook along with bait.
Thanksgiving Ode
November 15th, 1888.
September came and with it frost
The season’s pasture it seemed lost,
And the wondrous yield of corn
Of its green beauty it was shorn.
Frost it came like early robber,
But gentle rains came in October,
Which were absorbed by grateful soil;
With green once more the pastures smile.
And cows again are happy seen
Enjoying of the pastures green,
And flow of milk again they yield
From the sweet feed of grassy field.
And we have now a fine November,
Warmer far than in September;
The apple, which is queen of fruits,
Was a good crop and so is roots.
The rains they did replenish springs,
And it gratitude to each heart brings,
When we reflect on bounteous season,
For grateful feelings all have reason.
When to Sell Grain and Farm Produce
Grain it should be sold in the fall
Even if the price it should be small,
For if you keep it till the spring
Sometimes a less price it doth bring.
For grain with whole world doth compete,
You cannot raise the price of wheat,
Then at once you should embark it
On its way to world’s market.
We hope our views you don’t despise,
For grain doth shrink in weight and size,
If you sell wheat you can get gold,
Retain it, damp may make it mould.
Remember too that of your wheat
The rats of it will fondly eat,
Sell it and money then invest,
And you can get good interest.
The same remarks apply to cheese,
It shrinks and frosts make it to freeze,
Then careful man you have to hire
At great expense to keep up fire.
If you your produce quick do move,
The business soon it will improve,
And then mankind will you bless
For alleviating their distress.
And it pays best to sell each pig,
Plump and young, not old, fat and big,
Young and tender now’s the vogue
Either in cattle or in hog.
Four Acre Farm
This is a tale, but it is truth,
Of maiden lady named Ruth,
She owned a small four acre farm,
Which possessed some rural charm.
This maiden she was past her youth,
But none e’re fell in love with Ruth,
Though you must not infer from thence
That she possessed not grace nor sense.
She was handsome in her day,
But beauty quickly fades away,
Good vegetables and fine roots
She growed and choicest kind of fruits.
And a first-class good milch cow
She kept, and a fine breeding sow,
Her butter high price did command,
Cow fed on best of pasture land.
On it was pond where swam her geese,
From small flock of sheep she sheared fleece,
And thus she passed year after year,
Her cares they kept her in good cheer.
Each year she raised large chicken brood,
And for them she grew lots of food,
In winter time it was her rule
To knit and spin up her own wool.
And thus her uneventful life
Doth pass without jar or strife,
’Tis seldom she e’re feels alarm,
But quietly tills her little farm.
To plow her little fields of course
She does require to drive her horse,
This little pony looks quite smart
Drawing old maid in little cart.
Eagle and Salmon
Wilmot of fish culture fame,
To this tale he lends his name,
A pair of eagles built their nest
On a lofty pine tree’s crest.
And therein they regular rear
A brood of young year after year,
One day he saw one leave its nest,
When for food it was in quest.
It did wing its flight on high,
And then on water cast its eye,
When it quickly did discover
A great salmon in the river.
Like lightning flash down it doth sweep
And its talons it buries deep,
In salmon of enormous size
He trys to rise in air with prize.
But all in vain he quickly found
He could not carry thirty pound,
And had bit more than he could chew
For in the air no more he flew.
Wilmot he did gaze with wonder
At the spot where he went under,
Resolved to know
