The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1906-10-04

All up and down the State of
Maine the canned corn industry is an
ephemeral season of feverish activi-
ty, lasting not over fortnight. upon
which the whole outcome of the
years industry depends.
During the last weeks of August
freight cars full of tin cans are shunt-
ed into the shops; the yards have
been carefully cleaned and every
thing Is prepared for the impending
hustle, in which, perhaps. 1000, 900
cans must be filled, sealed and made
ready for. market
The buyer" all this time is maxi
Ing his daily rounds in a light wagon,
visiting all the corn raisers within
twenty miles, seeing that the con-
tracts, signed year before, are being
carried out and ascertaining just
when each growers crop will be
ready for the mill. No man must
bring in his corn until it is called for;
no man dares delay it (for greater
weight) after the order has gone
forth. The system is perfection and
insures a steady and ample supply
for the two weeks of canning time
just enough for the machinery to take
care of, no more, no less. without
1t the corn might lie a day or two in
the shop yard and spoil, for green
corn is highly perishable commod-
ity.
When everything is absolutely
ready the foreman gives the word.
Instantly the most amazing activity
ensues. Every man, woman and
child who can possibly get away from
other occupations is requisitioned by
the shop; school is delayed until can
ming time is over; every other busi-
ness is subordinated to the pressing
task of getting the corn into the
cans before the frost strikes it. In
side the mill the complex machines
begin to hum, outside, the yard fills
up with women and children, waiting
for the corn to come.
The first load is acclaimed with
cheers as it lumbers in behind a yoke
of red oxen; no sooner is it dumped
than the swarm of workers burrows
into it like so many bees, stripping
and tearing off the husks; in five min
utes the first lot OF heaping bushel
baskets, piled high with sweet green
corn, is being wheeled away to the
cutters" Another and another load
comes; the game is on.
Nothing in our prosaic American
life could be more picturesque, more
suggestive of the free, open air labor
of southern Europe than this yard
full of people, in all manner of parti-
colored dress, kneeling and sitting
around the heaps of corn, stripping
away for dear life. The incentive is
five cents for every bushel of husked
corn-quite enough to make the pow
erty bitten ruralites dig in" for all
they are worth. Many a new suit OF
clothes, many Sunday bonnet come
out of these bushel baskets.
Meanwhile, as the OK teams. drays
and wagons of every description are
hauling in the corn, and the chatter
ing. competing townsfolk are husking
away like mad, the stripped corn is
machines. the cutters" clever de-
vices which whip OFF every kernel in
a twinkling and toss the cobs out into
the yard again through chute. The
ears of corn running through these
machines make you think of process
sion of rats scamperlng into their
holes; they whisk along almost faster
than the eye can follow One "cut-
ter" fed by boy, does the work that
formerly required ten or dozen men
armed with corn knives.
The meaty kernels, running with
white juice, are poured down into
vats,. from these machines, whence
they are conveyed to a big rotating
sieve which sorts out bits of cob,
refuse and the like, letting only the
clean and perfect corn pass through.
This corn is all caught in another
vat. called the mixer" where it is
is thoroughly incorporated by ma