Then, too, came the
wonderful passenger pigeons streaming from the south, and flocks of
geese and cranes, filling all the sky with whistling wings.
The summer work, on the contrary, was deadly heavy, especially
harvesting and corn-hoeing. All the ground had to be hoed over for
the first few years, before father bought cultivators or small
weed-covering ploughs, and we were not allowed a moment's rest. The
hoes had to be kept working up and down as steadily as if they were
moved by machinery. Ploughing for winter wheat was comparatively easy,
when we walked barefooted in the furrows, while the fine autumn tints
kindled in the woods, and the hillsides were covered with golden
pumpkins.
In summer the chores were grinding scythes, feeding the animals,
chopping stove-wood, and carrying water up the hill from the spring on
the edge of the meadow, etc. Then breakfast, and to the harvest or
hay-field. I was foolishly ambitious to be first in mowing and
cradling, and by the time I was sixteen led all the hired men. An hour
was allowed at noon for dinner and more chores.
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