The Republican., 1898-02-17

/ DuTH tuSIH. ne pluckeu the DrOaC-
brimmed straw hat off his head and
pitched it spinning in the white sun
shine; then spat resolutely upon his
hands; gripped his pitchfork in the po-
sition of charge bayonets," and plant
ed his big boots and bow-legs wide
apart, stood sturdy as a rock based
pyramid, looking at the 2,OO0-pound
mass below him with grim confidence.
1t was masterpiece of its kind. The
hay was clover, stout and long in the
stalk, and so especially fit for hand
ling. 1t had been cooked and loaded to
a nicely. No "scatterings" had been
permitted. The cocks had been placed
on the wagon-rack with the regularity
of ashlar masonry, so that the process
of unloading might be as simple as
taking down, one by one, a pile of
stacked-up bricks.
"Are you ready on the load" called
Henry.
"All ready"
Are you ready on the mow?'
Ready"
There was a moments hush, as be-
| wv lllN Jul VI u
Teddy and l breathless with suspense.
"Go!"
The spectacle that followed was aston
ishing. To us on the NOW it was as
if a new kind of volcano, opening
through the wagon-rack, had suddenly
burst into a fierce eruption of dust,
hay and dried clover-heads. Bill, the
burly, bent his great back and gnarly
muscles to keep himself from being
fairly buried. The hay rolled back un-
der the caves in great pillows. and
Teddy and I plunged wildly about in
the midst, painting with heat, choking
with dust, and streaming with sweat.
We thought we'd die!
The air under the barn-shingles was
like the fiery furnace of Shadrach,
Meshach and Abednego. 1t seemed as
if all the heat of the tropics was pour
ing in a flood on that single roof. The
slow seconds crawled endlessly. 1t
seemed to us that five, ten, fifteen min
utes must have passed-a whole half
hour-a whole purgatorial cycle-and
still the clover rolled in on us. Oh,
for drink of water! My throat thirst
ed like MONDAY sand on the Sahara.
The game was up long ago.
Say" gasped Teddy, as his head
emerged from hay-breaker that had
just rolled him over, "can you see the
rack?"
Yes, if we could only see the boards
of the rack! That meant a speedy de-
liverance out of all miseries. I gazed
anxiously al Sister Anne on Bluebeard's s
tower. A great bar of sunlight shot
slantwise athwart the load from a
western window, and pierced the eddy
ing dust-cloud.
Full in the light of it I saw Uncle
John. his wet, red face comforting, and
his lips COMPRISING as he stretched
his powerful muscles to his task, the
polished steel of his pitchfork tines
flashing through the hay chaos around
us like the sword of destroying angel.
No rack was to be seen, but the hay lay
low on the wagon.
Uncle John was swinging into the
homestretch. Then it was that he
shook loose the reins on his reserve en-
NISD as IL idNNl lVuPS uhdOl thC SPul
1t was a wonderful sight-that pam
ther tread of his, up and down the load;
the quick plunge of the pitchfork into
the brown bosom of the clover; the
sudden sweep of the haycock whirling
roofward, the hickory fork handle
springing under the strain like violin
bow.
c,4nn1 N-o4oh ~, honI haci1o
the wagon, utterly self-forgotten, his
eyes shining with excitement, his body
bent eagerly forward and swaying
slightly in unison with Uncle Johns.
All at once gave great shout: ''The
rack! the rack!"
Two dozen more great clover masses
shot toward the roof from Uncle Johns
mighty fork, and it was clear from
end to end. He turned instantly to
Henry for the result. A silence fell
as the collegian bent over his watch.
Bill leaned painting on his fork, his
dripping face bent anXiously down.
ward. His jaws stopped their power
full play on his tobacco "cud." We
caught a few indistinct words from
Henry.
How is it?" called Bill. mpatiently.
Uncle John whirled his victorious
weapon three times around his head.
Just three minutes and so seconds" :"
he shouted. 'Hooray!"
And Teddy and I, half dead with
WEAKNESS, Strengthened up our aching
legs and echoed through our parched
throats parched and feeble "Hooray!"
Ever since that summer day, when
Henry, during his summer visits TO the
country, meets an uncommonly big,
square-built towering load of hay
sweeping along the dusty road, with a
sun-browned farmer perched atop, he
takes off his hat and salutes.-Youth's
Companion.