The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1897-09-12
A Kansas MaNel--The Thresher.
Jarvis Bioostem writes TO the Dodge Cir,

Jarvis Bioostem writes TO the Dodge City
Republican:
II is something more than awe that thrills
one seeing the steam thresher al work with
self-feeder and pneumatic strawstacker.
II is that benumbing absorption with
which the untutored savage regards the
railway train. That is. presumilg one has
.hreshed with hail.on the hard oak hoor
Of the barn in which was stored the years
crop at the harvest-home- The monoto-
nous thunp OF this primitive tr;bulator
opened and closed the grand lodge OF day
for weeks and months OF the autumn and
winter in the good old times. Go back.
and gaze OF that picture-then on this,
What monster Is that. stretching along
the horizon IN the distance. over hills and
through hollows. stalking on the levels
with the needless march OF jugsernaut or
the appalling sweep of a cyclone? See,
From nostrils far aioft il breathes a
binding cloud of sulphu-ous smoke. Ike
the spume OF a dragon, Now the earth
resounds its awful tread as though e. Trsm
bior were abroad from his volcanic den.
lark. That terrifying yell. as though
crazy demon had become drunk on the
blood OF his victims. The clanklngs OF
massive chains Indicate that II IS tram
ueled. Has puny man then. harnessed the
comes to a stop. and IS found 10 be more
or less under control OF a little tobacco
chewing man with chestnut-sorrel whisk-
ers and only one suspender. We are re-
assured. but still a bit leery. Taking a
position OF view We borrow a little en-
chantment from distance, which lands US
in a contiguous corn-fieli. Now we are
safe, and can scrieve down on paper a
morsei of what occurs.
And this as the steam thresher. II con-
sists Of three sections, the engine, the
separator and the tool-wagon. Before a
full stop was made these were all unIim-
bered and now the driver, STEERING his en-
gire, has pushed his separator in between
two mountainous ricks Of wheat. They
are solid masses of heads whose meshes are
bursting with grain. The endless chain
feeding chute is drawn forward and Sc
cured. the stack set up. the grain spout
adjusted. the power belt stretched from the
fy-wheel OF the engine 70 the cylinder pull
ley, warning toot of the whistle that all
IS ready. whirring of the cleaning teeth
of the cylinder rising away high into
wild, weird war-song. and the battle IS
on.
Eight strong men, armed with steel pitch
forks, each striving as in fierce fight with
a fatal foe, feed the ravening jaws OF this
purr.ng old tiger-cat whose may knows no
safety. Down the grain spot rushes a
tawny torrent, two and a half bushels a
minute. into a ffty-bushel wagon box.
These are carefully tailed and the record !
is the measure of the work. Think, now
Of measuring wheat from the machine with
a half-bushel, The idea is childish TWEEN |
~ minutes. and the measure is level full |
The groaning wheels or the wagon trench |
the yielding soil with its ton and a half !
load of the precious life-staff. Another !
wagon is instantly in place and so the |
mad strife goes on. No stop. no rest, no |
breathing spell, no break downs Only one !
short hour al noon from sunrise till dark.
Six of these machines in sight at once |
from one outlook. Say twelve hundred |
bushels a day multiplied by s:x-seventy- |
two hundred bushels-n:ne good car loads |
in one day from one little corner OF the |
wheat melt in the short grass country. |
Think upon il.