The Ploughboy 



Think of that, ye blessed eight -hour -day 

 laborers! 



In winter father came to the foot of the 

 stairs and called us at six o'clock to feed the 

 horses and cattle, grind axes, bring in wood, 

 and do any other chores required, then break- 

 fast, and out to work in the mealy, frosty snow 

 by daybreak, chopping, fencing, etc. So in 

 general our winter work was about as restless 

 and trying as that of the long-day summer. No 

 matter what the weather, there was always 

 something to do. During heavy rains or snow- 

 storms we worked in the bam, shelling com, 

 fanning wheat, thrashing with the flaU, making 

 axe-handles or ox-yokes, mending things, or 

 sprouting and sorting potatoes in the cellar. 



No pains were taken to diminish or in any 

 way soften the natural hardships of this pioneer 

 farm life; nor did any of the Europeans seem 

 to know how to find reasonable ease and com- 

 fort if they would. The very best oak and hick- 

 ory fuel was embarrassingly abundant and cost 

 nothing but cutting and common sense; but 

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