Letters


| September/October 1957



On The Farm 50 Years Ago

Down on the farm about half past four I slip on my pants and sneak out the door out of the yard I run like the dickens to milk ten cows and feed the chickens; clean out the barn, 'curry' Nancy and Jiggs, separate the cream and slop the pigs; work two hours and eat like a Turk and then by heck I'm ready for a full days work.

Then I grease the wagon and put on the rack, Throw a jug of water in an oldgrain sack, Hitch up the horses and hurry down the lane- Must get the hay in for it looks like rain. Look over yonder, sure as I'm born, Cattle on the rampage and cattle in the corn, Start across the medder, run a mile or two, Heaving like I'm wind broke, get wet all through.

Get back to the horses then for recompence Nancy gets a-straddle the barbed wire fence; Joints all a-aching and muscles in a jerk I'm fit as a fiddle for a full days work. Work all summer 'till winter is nigh then figure up the books and heave a big sigh; Worked all year, didn't make a cent, got less cash now that I had last spring.

Now some people tell us there ain't any hell but they never farmed and they can't tell. When spring rolls around I take another chance while the fringe grows longer on my old gray pants- give my spenders a hitch, my belt another jerk- and then by heck I'm ready for another years work.

-Author, HARRY FISCHBACK, Kettlersville, Ohio.

INITIATED IN OIL AT BIRTH-

Can't tell you how much I enjoy the ALBUM. I grew up with a little steam engine, an 8 hp. upright engine and boiler with homemade traction made from bull wheels of a binder for the drivers. It was surprising what that little thing could pull and my father was very proud of it.