Casey Chats Again

By S. C. Casey Jones
Published on November 1, 1971
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Gaar-Scott 25 Hp. double cylinder at Pion-Era 1969. This is a splendid engine.
Gaar-Scott 25 Hp. double cylinder at Pion-Era 1969. This is a splendid engine.
2 / 3
Rumely, double cylinder, at Pion-Era.
Rumely, double cylinder, at Pion-Era.
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Case engine on wood saw. Plenty of poles in background at Pion-Era 1969.
Case engine on wood saw. Plenty of poles in background at Pion-Era 1969.

Box 21, Wichita, Kansas 67201

Oh, that bright and cloudless morning 1890 B.C. (before
combines) two black oxen by the name of Tom and Gerry seemed to be
pulling a puffen’ steam engine in the direction of our four
round wheat stacks but neither Tom nor Gerry was pullen a pound and
they knowed et. When they came to a steep place in the road the old
engine was puffen louder, but didn’t disturb the oxen one bit.
The day of Great Mystery had arrived. There was an ingin (we called
it) could pull itself. All the two big black oxen had to do was to
guide it by holding up the tongue. Behind this was old Buck and
Barney and George and Coley, that made two yoke pulling the
separator and on the water tank pulled by Rond and Pete. The water
tank consisted of a wagon with high wheels and a huge wooden box
holding five barrels of water. Two empty barrels for the engine
while the tank man was after another load that was dipped from the
creek with two half bushel buckets that took an extra man.

The engine was a powerful six horsepower single cylinder made in
Mount Vernon, Ohio. The crew consisted of Engineer, separator man,
two to feed alternately and a boss, who was also an Advance man,
usually chewing a yellow straw in his mouth.

Across on another hill from us was another machine with six
horses horse power machine. Shucks, no fun threshing powered by
horse flesh. Our machine had a whistle and the puffen, puffen of
the big engine caused a thrill with every puff. This was the year
1890. I was 4 years old, and that was old enough to tell my big
brother, Dave (now 95) ‘I’d rather run that big engine than
be president,’but alas, right there in the same neighborhood we
could hear bout sundown the chime of a still louder whistle and
this engine could not only pull itself but could pull the separator
up the steepest hill and guided by a steering wheel. I told my big
brother Dave, (not my drinkin’ Brother) I’d rather run that
engine than be King of the Universe.

This engine was a Springfield 8 Hp. made in Springfield, Ohio.
Used tallow to lubricate the cylinder, no friction clutch. The
engineer rode in a seat on the platform with two coal boxes. There
were two tanks for water on the side, right and left, bout midway
of the boiler there was a cross head pump and what they called an
inspirator made by Hancock but not always worked. We have heard of
cussen loud as an ox driver. I can say never have I ever heard such
cursing as that old engineer did at that engine when the double
darned old inspirator wouldn’t work worth a darn. We could
never imagine Hell being even tho times could be hot enough torment
for such cursing and all was the matter was dirt on the screen at
the end of the hose.

As time advanced, we had better engines and much better
engineers who never said Damn in a season.

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