Farm Collector


529 Elaine Road, Columbus, Ohio 43213

As harvest time was drawing near,
And grain began to turn,
Then we would get our binder out
And give it much concern.

We’d check the canvasses for holes,
Make sure the slats were tight;
Inspect the guards and sections and
Make sure that they were right.

We’d oil and grease and check for wear;
Replace each damaged part,
Then check the tension on the twine,
And be all set to start.

For when the grain was fully ripe
One purpose was in view,
And that was get it in the shock;
Not rest till we were thru.

And then when sun and wind and time
Had cured and dried it out,
Then came the time of all the year
That I must tell about.

The neighbors all would gather in
With teams and wagons too,
And go out in the field of grain,
When sun had dried the dew.

Each one would try to see if he
Could make his load look best,
Or maybe one would try to make
His bigger than the rest.

Good naturedly they’d brag or boast
About who was the top,
But principally their object was
To try to save the crop.

The high light of my story now
I think, and so must you
Was when the engine would appear
With thresher and it’s crew.

Each man would hurry to his post,
Set everything just so,
And in a very little while
They were all set to go.

The sheaves were pitched, the thresher hummed,
The engine puffed a tune,
And golden grain rolled from the spout,
From then on until noon.

Now when the dinner bell would ring
And engine’s whistle blow,
Then everything would be shut down,
And to the house we’d go.

We’d wash in bucket, pan or tub,
A hurried task at best,
Though soap and water got most dirt,
The towel would get the rest.

Then to the table filled with food,
The best of everything,
You could not get a better meal,
E’en though you were a king.

Now time and change have made this But pleasant
history, naught
But should it not be kept alive
For future folks to see?

  • Published on Jan 1, 1968
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