Threshing Day 135 



AT THE HEAD OP THE STBAW-OAERIERS 



Dear reader, have you ever been stationed at 

 the head of the straw-carriers at an old-time 

 threshing, when the dust was so thick, as the say- 

 ing is, that it could be cut with a knife? On a 

 stack where there was plenty of air such a position 

 was not too bad, but with the carriers running up 

 into a barn mow, and almost against the roof, the 

 man at the head of the straw elevator, occupied 

 a tough, tough place. 



I recall, when I was a lad, along with another 

 youth, I was so placed. Room was scarce and the 

 grain was heavy fall wheat. Early in the after- 

 noon we had shouted down to the man who was 

 feeding the hungry monster to hurry along — that 

 we just couldn't keep from freezing for want of 

 something to do. Just joking, we were, of course. 

 When there was scarcely room to work, for the 

 straw filled up behind us, he threw sheaves into 

 that cylinder at a most remarkable rate. "We were 

 getting well winded but it wouldn't do to let the 

 straw pile up at the elevator head as it would stop 

 the machine, and would also be an acknowledg- 

 ment that we were * ' all in. ' ' We were both young, 

 dust-covered, thirsty, sweaty and exhausted. ' ' I '11 

 make those two young rascals cry 'Help' or 

 'Enough,' " the feeder, no doubt, was saying to 

 himself. I may explain that the elevator was run 

 by a long chain from the machine to a pulley at the 

 top and as it was getting dusk, and he couldn't be 



