The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1898-09-07
ALittle Haymal<er,

When haying began every one on
the farm worked with might and main,
and none harder than Charlie.
He followed the moving machine
round and round the piece which his
uncle was cutting, watching the grass
heads and daisies nod and fall before
the sharp teeth which he had turned
the grindstone for his uncle to
sharpen, until he was so tired that he
could not sleep when bedtime came,
and was discovered one night trying
to climb the bureau, for what purpose
was not known, unless to get in walk
ing trim for the next days moving.
And when it came to raking and
"tumbling" he was ON hand with the
little pitchfork which had been found
for him, and Charlie could make as
good tumble as any man on the hay
field, although it took all his pluck to
attack the windrows in which the hay
was heaviest.
There was one thing that he always
disliked, though he never shirked it,
and that was riding to the field on the
hay-rack. 1t was all right until the
wagon turned into the meadow and
hogan to bob and bump over the
rough ground. Then began his
troubles. Every hummock over which
the wheels passed would throw him
up in the air with bounce like a
rubber ball.
And when the horses were put into
a trot, SO that the hay might be gotten
in before the thunderstorm came up,
and the pitchforks ratified and tossed
about in the bottom of the wagon, the
shaking-up that he endured was
enough to turn him to jelly, il he had
not been so tough-to say nothing of
the danger of pitching overheard
while the men laughed aloud at his
unwilling antics. He was more than
repaid for this, though, in riding back
on top of the load after having raked
after so clean that not handful of
hay was left behind.
When the load went rumbling into
the barn his services usually ceased,
except such matters as running to the
we'll for pail of fresh water for the
men.
But one day Charlie pleaded so hard
with his uncle to be allowed to help
''mow away" which means to atand
in the haymow and stow the hay
away as it is thrown up from the bed,
that he finally won his consent, and
Charlie clambered up on the NOW with
his pitchfork and made ready for
duty. Proud that he was at last to do
what only the men had done before,
he waited for the first throw.
How it did come piling up ON him
under the vigorous unloading of Uncle
Kent-great forkfuls, heavy and dusty,
and how hot it was up here where no
breath of air camel Would the load
never be off?
Faster and faster it came. Charlie
could hardly get one forkful out of
the way before another was waiting.
At last, as he was struggling to pull
his fork out of some that he had slowed
away with great effort, big forkful
came upon him unawares which
knocked him over and buried him up
completely.
Nearly smothered, he worked his
way out, thinking that he should have
to call out surrender; but great was
his relief to find that this was the last
forkful and that the rack was empty.
swell, how do you like moving
away?" said his uncle as he came
sliding down from the NOW, covered
with dust, his cheeks ahame and his
arms and legs trembling with the ex-
ertion.
"Oh, pretty well," said Charlie. but
he never asked to NOW away again.
Ynuth,a Camnauion