HOW WE MADE OUR HAY. 133 



fallen. The day had been burning hot, and the poor 

 horses suffered much, as I soon found that the faster 

 the pace the better was the cutting. They were ac- 

 cordingly changed, and left for an hour or two to 

 refresh themselves, so as to take their turn again 

 later on. Although the crop was thick, the sun's 

 rays had been so piercing, that at about two o'clock 

 a boy was sent to work the tedding-machine over the 

 part first brought down. The secret of working this 

 machine is to work it across the wind. The horse is 

 by no means so exhausted that way as when he has 

 at one time to advance to meet the air, and has his 

 back to it on his return, being thus overwhelmed and 

 well-nigh suffocated by the thick heap descending 

 over and in a great measure gathering on him. The 

 quicker move the wings of the machine the highei 

 goes the grass, so that if there be wind, as we always 

 devoutly hope there may be in haymaking time 

 (provided only it follow the sun), every blade and 

 particle is flung out separate ; each mass is scattered 

 as a heap of feathers ; no clouts of damp stuff left — 

 such as human haymakers always have — to fire or 

 unduly heat the stack. Curious is it to watch the 

 effective process. A darkening lump shot up by 

 those remorseless fangs — returning from their high 

 aerial flight, there rains down, as a mosquito cloud, a 

 shower of drifting blades and stems half withered. 

 Thus, the greater tufts that had lain so flat, after a 

 soar in the air and sunshine, falling, dissevered, in 

 and about their dry, warm, shrunken fellows, an 

 equable temperature is soon spread throughout the 

 mass. Hay-dealers, for this reason, will give always 



