HOUSE AND GARDEN 
: 
39 
July, 1912 
annoyed Mantell greatly. It took them almost as long to put in 
a load as it did to go out to the field and gather it. But there 
didn’t seem any way around it. 
Another interesting and unprofitable job was the harvesting of 
corn. It was cut by hand, for no one owned a corn harvester for 
miles around, and put up in “shocks” to cure. The fields of pale 
yellow shocks, all in rows and the dark yellow pumpkins scattered 
here and there among them, made a sight that would please the 
most unenthusiastic beholder. It was such a bad season that 
much of their best corn was put into the barn and husked there, 
but they enjoyed a few bright sunny afternoons husking in the 
fields. It struck Mantell as being the most social and enjoyable 
operation, the most like the farming that he had always pictured 
in his imagination, of anything they had done; and that very 
evening he picked up his weekly rural paper to see a photograph 
of a new machine, simple and not very expensive, into which the 
evening, too, to note that his corn did run a little better than the 
Squire’s, after all—and that shallow cultivation through rainless 
weeks was what had done it. 
The weather later in the fall was ideal — clear, bracing mornings 
that set the blood tingling just comfortably and made one feel 
capable of accomplishing any task. And beside the bracing spirit 
of it, there was further a suggestion of melancholy and a still 
more indefinable feeling of getting ready for the long siege of 
winter, of storing up supplies as a squirrel hoards nuts, of making 
all fast and safe as one might do in a cave on a desert island. 
Early in the autumn, too, there had been a pleasant surprise— 
an echo from the city which was doubly welcome because it 
showed that even there, in spots, generosity still existed. The ex¬ 
press office had called up one day to inform Mr. Mantell that his 
canoe had arrived — which was the first that he knew of it. Specu¬ 
lation was rife as to who could have sent it, and only after writing 
No one for miles around owned a corn harvester, so Mantell and his helpers had to do the work by hand, cutting and stacking the stalks to 
It was interesting work and the rows of pale yellow shocks with the darker colored pumpkins scattered about made an attractive sight 
cure. 
corn was fed, stalks and all. It picked the ears from the stalks 
and crushed the stalks up into edible form, even actually husking 
the ears, at one operation! Two men and a small gasoline engine, 
with these few pieces of wood, castings and bolts, could in a day 
husk more corn than Mantell and his whole company could in a 
week of sunny weather. 
The Squire’s corn was husked by hand, but in a more primi¬ 
tive way — the whole neighborhood turned out to help him do it 
at a “husking bee.” Of course the Mantells attended. They en¬ 
joyed it immensely — enjoyed themselves and enjoyed watching 
the Squire’s lifelong neighbors enjoy themselves in one great, 
old-fashioned, unrestrained good time. A lot of work was done, 
too — several hundred bushels of corn husked, before refresh¬ 
ments were served and the floor was cleared for a noisy, old-time 
square dance that made the big building shake. Mantell could not 
help contrasting it with the polished floors and polished manners 
of the old city life. It gave Mantell a very pleasant feeling all the 
to the makers were they sure that it came from a young fellow to 
whom Mantell had been of assistance in a business way. Of 
course they were delighted with it, and many a trip was enjoyed 
before cold weather. There is no better ticket to the orchestra 
seats in Nature's theater than a canoe. Without noise, with little 
physical effort, at a pace as slow or as swift as you like, you glide 
into the very heart of things—behind the scenes as it were. 
The canoe, however, was a family affair, so Robert and Helen 
decided that they must have a boat of their own. As they had no 
money to buy such a thing they resolved to make one. Many an 
afternoon they hastened home from school to get in an hour’s or 
even half an hour’s work on their cherished project—Saturdays, 
and even some stolen Sunday hours, it must be confessed, helped 
things along, little by little, until well before spring the task was 
completed. It was a funny looking craft, very simple in construc¬ 
tion, with flat bottom and sides that did not curve quite symme- 
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