Letters

By Staff
Published on September 1, 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.

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