' Then comes harvest, and that is proper hard work:
mowin' and pitchin' hay, and reapin' and bindin' grain, and potato
diggin'. That's as hard as sole leather, afore it's hammered on the
lap stone; it's a'most next to anything. It takes a feller as tough
as Old Hickory (General Jackson) to stand that.
"Ohio is 'most the only country I knew of where folks are saved that
trouble; and there the freshets come jist in the nick of time for
'em, and sweep all the crops right up in a heap for 'em, and they
have nothin' to do but take it home and house it, and sometimes a man
gets more than his own crop, and finds a proper swad of it all ready
piled up, only a little wet or so; but all countries ain't like Ohio.
Well, arter harvest comes fall, and then there's a grand 'blowin'
time' till spring. Now, how the Lord the Bluenoses can complain of
their country, when it's only one third work and two-thirds 'blowin'
time,' no soul can tell.
"Father used to say, when I lived on the farm along with him, 'Sam,'
says he, 'I vow I wish there was jist four hundred days in the year,
for it's a plaguy sight too short for me. I can find as much work as
all hands on us can do for three hundred and sixty-five days, and
jist thirty-five days more, if we had 'em. We hain't got a minit to
spare; you must shell the corn and winner the grain at night, and
clean all up slick, or I guess we'll fall astarn as sure as the Lord
made Moses.
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