Noel, Missouri, 64854
As we grow older and are retired, and we now have time on our
hands to while away, it is only natural that our minds go back to
the good old days of steam threshing, which seemed more like annual
reunions or picnics, usually lasting ten days to two weeks. It was
an occasion or event when neighbors helped neighbors to make up a
more were dropped and others added. It was a continuous cycle until
the entire community was completed.
The work was dirty and the days were hot and long. However, when
the crews were well co-ordinated and the engine, thresher and grain
were in perfect condition, the rhythmic puffing of the engine and
the humming of the thresher was soothing music to a person’s
ears. They looked forward to the mid-morning lunch that would tide
them over until the whistle blew for the bounteous noon day feast
or banquet. They ate with gusto or until they could not hold
another bite.
After dinner the crew would soon settle down to a rapid steady
pace, to accomplish as much as possible, knowing that they would be
brought a mid-after-noon lunch to tide them over until the evening
whistle would signal the close of the day and the evening meal or
feast. Everyone was tired and ready to hit the hay, bunk or bed for
a good nights rest.
The threshing season was also a feast or banquet for the wives.
They had their plans made or menus prepared for each day. And their
work was from early morning until late at night. Their day was
longer than the men’s, with no time during the day for rest.
They worked from fourteen to sixteen hours a day. Each one tried to
outdo the others and dug deep into their larders for good inviting
food. The women were highly praised for their accomplishments as
cooks. Some of the larger threshing rigs had cooks and cook shacks
as a part of the outfit, thereby eliminating the drudgery from the
farmer’s wives.
With the advent of the many small tractors and trucks, came the
small or individual size threshers, which greatly reduced the size
of the threshing crew. In many cases the larger grain grower had
sufficient man-power for a crew and no outside help was needed.
This eliminated the feasts and banquets.
After that came the combines, and only two men for the crew. One
to operate the combine and the other to haul the grain. Operating
the combine is hard work, a lonely life and when necessary, he can
eat a sandwich and drink his coffee on the go. He stops only to oil
and grease the combine, fill the tractor or combine engine with
gas, oil and water, and unload the grain into the truck.
Driving the truck is a mental strain as he never knows how long
he must wait at the elevator to unload, or if he will be back in
time to unload the combine. In some cases it is necessary to have
two trucks to avoid delays.
Combines are in the now. A letter to the company will bring a
catalog with illustrated pictures and detailed information on both
the pull type and self-propelled combines.
By Walter R. Arndt, Noel, Missouri, 64854
A long time ago, country stores, with their pot belly stoves,
were the favorite places for the country folks to assemble in the
evenings, to smoke, chew tobacco, spit and tell tall tales to see
who was the champion story teller.
Mr. Whopper, living along the railroad track, told about his
calf running the freight trains. As he grew older and in size, he
naturally gained speed to the extent that he could outrun the
passenger train. Mr. Whopper told this so often that, he himself,
began to believe it to be true. The other men were certain the
passenger train was faster than the steer, made up a purse and made
a bet with Mr. Whopper. Also made an appointment for a committee to
be at his place the next morning to see the race.
Later that evening Mr. Whopper told his wife the predicament he
was in and asked for her advice. After thinking it over for a
while, she suggested, in the morning he take the steer and they
both hide in the machine shed, that she would take care of the
situation when the committee arrived.
As was planned the committee arrived on schedule and informed
Mrs. Whopper their reason for being there. She said she was sorry,
but Mr. Whopper went to Kansas City early that morning for some
badly needed steam engine repairs but that he would be back in time
for the race. However, if the repairs were not available in Kansas
City, he would go onto the factory in Racine, Wisconsin. In that
case he would be home in time for supper.
The committee knowing the trip could not be made in such a short
time, inquired if he went in his OX-Jenny Airplane. Her reply was
that the plane was too slow, that he rode the bull. The committee
was astonished, amazed, and aghast and on their way back to the
store conceded that Mrs. Whopper was the champion story teller and
awarded her the bet money.
News of Mrs. Whopper’s success spread to all country stores
in a large area. Many letters came with donations enclosed to buy
the steer for an open-pit barbecue and every one be invited to
attend the gala festivity to honor Mrs. Whopper.
Later the teeth of the steer were made into a necklace and the
hide into a laprobe. They were presented to Mrs. Whopper at a later
meeting, of the committees of the many country stores.
