CYRUS HALL McCORMICK 



machine, which was regarded as part marvel 

 and part freak, had been put up to auction 

 in that neighborhood of farmers, very likely 

 it would have found no bidders. There 

 appeared to be one man only, a William 

 Massie, who appreciated the ability of Cyrus 

 McCormick and lent him sums of money on 

 various urgent occasions. 



But in 1840 a stranger rode from the north 

 and drew rein in front of the little log workshop. 

 In appearance he was a rough-looking man, but 

 to Cyrus he was an angel of light. He had 

 come to buy a Reaper. He had been one of the 

 spectators at the Staunton exhibition, and he 

 had resolved to risk $50 on one of the new 

 machines. His name, which deserves to be 

 recorded in the annals of the Reaper, was 

 Abraham Smith. 



Several weeks later came two other angels in 

 disguise farmers who had heard of the Reaper 

 and who had ridden from their homes on the 

 James River, a forty-mile journey on horse- 

 back through the Blue Ridge Mountains. These 

 men had never seen a Reaper, but they had 



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