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When the wheelbarrow was used, it was quite a trick to balance it on the old bridge plank that formed a runway up and over the manure pile. Anyone who has tried to stabilize a wheelbarrow load of liquid knows the hazard of trying to keep it balanced while pushing it along a narrow plank and trying, sometimes unsuccessfully, to avoid stepping off into the knee-deep loblolly.
If the spreader chain was broken, then the manure had to be spread by hand. Talk about a labor-intensive job. Having to dig loose and load a winter's accumulation of odiferous, well-packed mat of sweet clover stems that are glued together with five months of bull excreta is a chore spelled in capital letters.
Then comes the spreading of this load on the field. The usual hand tool of choice was the four-tined manure fork. One soon learned how large a fork-full could best be picked up and tossed in a swishing swirl that would leave the ground covered with a more-or-less even layer of fertilizer. And one certainly learned the hard way which way the wind is blowing. Talk about work: Wow!
Dad repeated the disinterest. When the salesman put on the pressure, Dad terminated the interview by throwing the machine into gear. Needless to say, the salesman beat a hasty and undignified retreat.
The late Perry Piper was a columnist for newspapers in Illinois and Indiana for more than 12 years. His columns, reprinted here from his personal memoirs, appear in Farm Collector with the permission of his family.