SHEEP-WASHING--ADDISON'S NOVEL WATER-WARMER
"To-morrow we must wash the sheep," the Old Squire remarked at the
breakfast table next day. "We will try your water-warming apparatus,
Addison," he continued. "Do you think that you can get the pipes
together again?"
"I am sure of it, sir," Addison replied. "But I shall have to go borrow
the blacksmith's wrench and pipe-tongs."
"Ad thinks that patent warmer of his is something great," Halstead
remarked ironically.
"I think it is nice to warm the water, and not put the poor sheep into
stone-cold water when they are heated from running, in their heavy, hot
fleeces," said Theodora.
"It seemed to prevent them from taking cold last year," observed the Old
Squire. "Sheep often take cold when washed and sheared," he continued.
"If you girls go with us, you shall help fetch wood and tend fire," said
Halstead. "It is a hard job to keep the fire up under the pipe."
"O we will help," cried Ellen. "It's fun, I think, to fetch dry stuff
and make a big blaze."
"How are you off for soap, Ruth?" the Old Squire asked. "We shall want
two bucketfuls of soft soap for the first washings."
"Well, sir, I don't know about that," replied Gram, not well pleased.
"My soap barrel is getting low; and I have not been able to have Olive
Witham come to make soap yet, nor clean house. I think that a bucketful
will be all I can spare you."
"That will be small soap for seventy-six sheep," remarked Addison.
"There ought to be a pint to every sheep, half a pint at least. You may
work and work, and squeeze and squeeze, but you cannot get their thick
fleeces clean unless you put on plenty of soap."
"Murches' folks never use soap," said Halstead. "The boys just fling the
sheep into the pond and souse them round a few times, then let them
crawl out. They don't bother with warm water and soap. Willis catches
the sheep and pitches them in; and his father and Ben souse them. They
stand in the water up to their waists all the time; but I saw Murch take
a sly pull at a little bottle which he had set behind a stump on the
shore."
"Murch does not half wash his sheep," Addison remarked. "When they
carried their wool to market last year, it all had to go at twenty-eight
cents per pound, as unwashed wool, when clean-washed brought forty
cents. I don't like to stand in cold water two hours at a time, either.
A man who takes a drink of liquor every half hour can stand it, maybe;
but all people don't think it best to drink liquor."
"I suppose you would stand and chatter your teeth two hours before you
would take a swallow of whiskey," said Halstead with a laugh.
"I would warm the water," retorted Addison. "Certain people we know
would stand in cold water just for an excuse to get a drink."
It was manifest that Addison had the best of the argument, and that the
Old Squire agreed with him.
"Let's get an early start with our housework," Theodora made haste to
say, "so that we can all go. You must go, too, Gram. It is fun to see
the long fires under the pipe."
"Yes, Gram, I want you to go and see how finely my new water-warmer
works," said Addison. "The Edwardses are going to drive their flock over
here and wash them at the 'Little Sea' this year, so as to try the
warm-water plan. They will come after we finish, in the afternoon."
I now asked Addison whether he really had a patent on his water-warmer.
"O no," replied he, laughing. "You cannot take a patent right for
warming water. Still, it is a rather new idea hereabouts. I use the iron
pipe which we took out of a pump aqueduct a year ago. But you will see
how we do it to-morrow."
We worked putting stove-wood into the wood-house that day; and after
what seemed a remarkably short night, I waked to find Halstead dressing
in haste.
"Ad's up, and gone after the tools," he said. "Ordered us to get up and
help the old gent milk."
"Did he 'order' us to do it?" I asked, a little surprised.
"'Bout's good as that," grumbled Halstead. "Stuck his head in at the
door and hollered, 'Hurry up now and help milk.' O he is
dandy-high-jinks 'round this farm, I tell ye. Everything goes as he
says. The old gent thinks he's a regular little George Washington."
I did not quite know what to think of this talk; it was evident that my
two cousins did not altogether admire each other.
Meantime, Halstead had set off for the barn; but I lingered about the
kitchen, where I was presently impressed into the service of Theodora
and Ellen, who were kindling a fire and making preparations for
breakfast.
"Now, cousin, do please split a few sticks of this wood," the latter
besought me. "It's so large I cannot make it burn; and I am in no end of
a hurry. Here is the axe. But look out sharp now, or you will chop your
toes off. Take care now." She seemed half sorry, I thought, that she had
asked me, after watching my first strokes. For I laid about me with
might and main, causing the splinters to fly, from a boy's natural
instinct to show off before girls.
As there was a great deal of coarse wood in the shed, I continued to
wield the axe, and split a large heap, for which those wily girls
praised me without stint; but I am sure, none the less, that they were
smiling on the sly. Gram, too, came out from the pantry and praised me,
but she also laughed. It is exceedingly difficult for a boy to show off
without exciting risibility. When Gramp came in with two milk-pails,
presently, he also looked into the shed, to bid me good-morning, and
went away smiling.
At length I heard the clang of iron on the doorstep, and looking out,
saw that Addison had returned and thrown down the pipe-tongs. "You're a
good one!" he exclaimed, catching sight of my woodpile. "Gram and those
girls will make a saint of you right off. Splitting kindlings is the
royal road to all their good graces. It means a doughnut, or a piece of
pie, any time, at a moment's notice. All the same it is somewhat sweaty
work," he added, noticing my perspiring brow. "I go a little easy on it
myself; I never refuse when they ask me; but I don't try to make such a
pile as that at one time."
Halse, who had been turning the cows to pasture, now came in; and
breakfast being not quite ready, we went to the wagon-house and got down
the lengths of iron pipe from the loft, preparatory to loading them into
the cart, to be taken to the "Little Sea." It was what hardware dealers
term inch and a quarter pipe, and it was in lengths or sections, each
twelve feet long. These were somewhat heavy, and had screw threads cut
at each end, so that the ten or twelve lengths could all be joined
together by screwing them into couplings, and thus form one continuous
pipe. The pipe-tongs and wrench were needed to turn the couplings.
Addison had called at the post-office, and the Old Squire at once
became engrossed in the papers, containing further news of President
Johnson's quarrel with Congress. He and Addison were discussing politics
during breakfast. It made me feel uncomfortably ignorant, to hear how
well Addison was informed upon such matters, and how much interested
Theodora appeared to be in their conversation. Addison even undertook to
say what was Constitutional and what wasn't.
Not to be utterly outstripped, I ventured to express my opinion that
General Hancock ought to be the next President; but neither Addison nor
grandfather agreed with me, and I was afraid Theodora did not, for I
thought she looked at me compassionately, as if my opinion was immature.
Halstead did not say a word, but ate his breakfast with an air of
supreme indifference. Afterwards, as we were going out through the
wood-shed, he remarked to me that it made him sick to hear Republicans
palaver. "I'm a Democrat," said he. "I'm a 'Secesh,' too. I would be a
Democrat anyway, if Ad was a Republican."
I confess to feeling somewhat "mugwumpish" myself that morning, for it
was pretty plain that I never could lead the Republican party in that
house, as long as Addison was about. Still, I did not like the idea of
being a "copperhead;"--for that was the unhandsome designation which
Addison applied to all lukewarm or doubtful citizens. On the whole, I
decided that I had better be a quiet, not very talkative Unionist, and
not mix too freely in politics. I had some idea, however, of being a
"War Democrat," for General Hancock was then the subject of my very
great admiration. I ventured to intimate darkly to Theodora, a few days
afterwards, that I leaned slightly toward the condition of a "War
Democrat;" but although she admitted, very tolerantly, that a "War
Democrat" might be a decent citizen, I found that she looked upon all
such as a still not wholly regenerate order of beings, and that nothing
less than a fully-fledged, unswerving Republican could command her
respect and confidence. She took pains to let me know, however, that the
fact of my being a "War Democrat" would not by any means constitute a
bar to our future good-fellowship and cousinly acquaintance.
I remarked that Halstead appeared to be a "copperhead."
"Yes," she replied, with a heavy sigh.
"I don't know that I ought to tell you what he said the morning the
dreadful news came, that President Lincoln was assassinated," she
continued, after a pause and in a very saddened tone. "I would not speak
of it if I did not have a reason."
"What did he say?" I asked, curiously.
"He and Addison were splitting stove-wood in the yard," continued
Theodora. "They had been arguing and disputing. Ad does not argue with
Halstead so much now; he has learned better. But that morning they had
been talking pretty loud. Gramp had gone to the post-office, and when he
came back and drove into the yard, he spoke in a low tone and said,
'Boys, there is a terrible rumor abroad.' 'What is it?' exclaimed
Addison, turning around quickly.
"'News has come that the President and Secretary Seward have been
assassinated,' said Gramp. Ad dropped his axe and stood looking at
Gramp, as if spellbound. 'It cannot be!' he said. 'I am afraid it is too
true,' replied grandfather.
"Then what do you think Halstead did but shout, 'Glad of it! Served 'em
right!'
"Gramp looked at Halse, astonished; he did not know what to think, and
drove on into the wagon-house without saying a word. But Addison turned
on Halse and said, 'Anybody that will say that ought to be strung up to
the nearest tree!'
"With that Halse shouted again, 'Glad of it! Glad of it!' and then
jumped on a log and, flapping his arms against his sides, crowed like a
rooster. Addison was so disgusted that he did not speak to Halstead for
more than a week.
"And now you see how it is," Theodora continued to me, in a confidential
tone. "That is why I told you this. Halstead has a reckless temper. He
feels and sees, I suppose, that Addison is more talented than he is, and
that all of us naturally place more confidence in what he says and does.
That provokes Halstead to do and say what he otherwise wouldn't. Instead
of doing his best, he often does his worst. Ad is intelligent and
conscientious; he despises anything that is mean, or tricky, and he has
no patience with any one who does such things. So they don't get along
very well; and I often think that it isn't a good thing for them to be
together--not a good thing for Halse, I mean.
"Isn't that a strange thing," continued Theodora, thoughtfully, "that
because one boy is good and manly and intelligent, another one in the
same household may not do nearly as well as he would if the first one
were only just stupid?"
Theodora had taken me into moral waters quite beyond my depth, observing
which, I presume, she went on to say that she wanted me to see and
realize just how it was with Halstead, and always try to bring out his
best side, instead of his worst.
If I could only have seen the matter in as clear a light as she did and
labored as hard as she did to bring out that "best side" of my youthful
kinsman, the outcome might perhaps have been different.
Breakfast over, after a parting glance at the newspaper, Gramp came out
to give directions for the sheep-washing. "I will go to the pasture and
see to getting the sheep myself this spring," said he; for it appeared
that on a previous occasion, Halse and Addison had difficulty, owing to
the injudicious use of a dog, and finally arrived at the brook with the
flock, as well as themselves, in a badly heated condition.
"I wish you would, sir," replied Addison. "I will yoke the oxen and haul
the pipe to the brook while you are gone."
This plan being adopted, the oxen were yoked and attached to the cart;
and under Addison's supervision, I took the goad-stick and received my
first lesson in driving them. "Swing your stick with a rolling motion
towards the nigh ox's head, and say, 'Back, Bright, get up, Broad,' when
you want to call them towards you," he instructed me. "And when you want
them to veer off, step to the head of the nigh ox and rap the off ox
gently on the nose, then reversing your stick, touch up the nigh ox." He
illustrated his teachings and I attempted to imitate him. Halstead stood
at a little distance and laughed; no doubt it was laughable.
"What a teamster he will make!" I heard him saying to the girls. "He
talks to old Bright as if he was afraid of hurting his feelings by
swinging the goad-stick so near his head. Next thing he will say, 'Beg
your pardon, Broad, but I really must rap your head and ask you to gee,
if it will not be too much trouble.'"
They all laughed at Halse's joke, not unkindly, yet I can hardly
describe how much it wounded my vanity and how incensed I felt with the
joker. Slowly the oxen moved away out of hearing. Even my instructor,
Addison, lagged a little behind to indulge in a broad smile. Glancing
backward, I detected his amused expression and was almost minded to
fling away the goad-stick; and I did not feel much reassured when he
remarked that I did very well for a beginner.
"Don't mind what Halse says," Addison continued. "He cannot drive a
cart through a gateway himself without tearing both gate-posts down."
There was solace in that statement. The oxen were very steady and well
broken; and I contrived to drive the cart across the field and down
through the pasture to the brook without much difficulty, although I
noticed several times that old Bright rolled the white of his eye up to
me, in a peculiar manner, as if something in my movements was puzzling
to the bovine mind. I asked Addison whether he did not think that the
oxen had very handsome eyes, for they seemed to me exceedingly soft and
lustrous.
"Yes," replied he, "all cattle have just such large, fine eyes." But he
appeared to be somewhat amused at the way I spoke of it; for the thought
had struck me that it was strange and not quite clear why cattle should
have eyes so much finer and more lustrous than human beings. I ventured
to ask Ad's opinion on that subject, as we were taking out the pipe
beside the brook. "Well," he replied, still laughing, "perhaps it is
because their lives are simpler and they don't have so much evil in them
as human beings do. But I recommend you to ask Elder Witham about that
the next time he spends the night here."
We now took the pipe out of the cart and chained up the oxen to the nigh
cart-wheel. Addison then explained to me his method of warming the water
for washing the sheep. From the dam which formed the Little Sea, there
was a considerable descent in the brook for some distance; and Addison's
device consisted in laying the pipe from the pond above the dam, so as
to carry water to two half-hogshead tubs, ninety or a hundred feet
farther down the bed of the brook. The pipe rested on heaps of stones
placed eight or ten feet apart and was thus elevated a foot and a half
from the ground; and directly beneath it a fire was kindled and kept
burning briskly all the time the washing was going on. The pipe was thus
exposed to the fire along its whole length; and it was found that the
water running through it was rendered very comfortably warm where it ran
out into the first tub. A short spout connected the first tub with the
other, set a little lower down, so that the warm water ran on into that
one. The sheep were first put into the lower tub and there soaped and
scrubbed, then taken to the upper tub and rinsed thoroughly.
"Now get out the wrench and pipe-tongs," said Addison. "The first thing
to do is to screw the pipe together."
This proved a task requiring some little muscular strength; and even
when we had done our best, several of the couplings leaked a little. We
put it together after awhile, however, and set the water running through
it to the two half-hogshead tubs, which had also to be lifted from the
cart and placed on a good foundation. Next, the sheep-yard, close beside
the tubs, had to be repaired, for the brush fence had sunk low during
the previous winter. Fresh bushes needed to be brought and a little
green spruce shrub with which to block up the hole that served as a
gate.
An hour or more elapsed while we were thus employed; and then, as we
were about ready to attend to the fire, we heard the voices of the
girls; and lo, besides Theodora and Ellen there was Gram herself, coming
down the pasture side.
"Good," said Addison. "They will help us drag brush and dry stuff from
the woods. It takes a lot of it to keep a good fire going. But the girls
like that. Nothing suits girls half so well as a fire out of doors. You
will see Gram herself fetching brush pretty soon.
"Just in time!" Addison shouted to them. "We were wishing for some help.
Now for a brush-bee!"--and he led the way to the edge of the woods, at a
little distance. "Gather up anything that will burn and carry it to the
pipe."
Soon we were all running to and fro with armfuls of it, and collected a
large heap, alongside the pipe, which was presently set blazing at one
end. From that point, the fire ran along beneath the whole line of pipe,
and very soon the water came out steaming into the half-hogsheads.
Erelong the bleating of the sheep and lambs was heard. "They're coming!"
Ellen cried. "I can see Wealthy running beside them, and Halse ahead of
the flock with the salt dish. Gramp is behind."
"Now we must form a line down here and guide them into the sheep-yard,"
Addison exclaimed. "The old and cunning ones will not like to go in."
"They have been there before; they know what is in store for them, and
they don't like it," said Gram, laughing. "They are like a little boy
whom I took off the town farm one spring. He had not been washed since
the previous summer. The sight of the tub frightened him dreadfully; he
bleated louder than the sheep do when I put him into it."
The flock came on with a rush, Halstead and Wealthy at the sides and the
Old Squire in the wake. By an adroit distribution of our forces, we
headed them into the yard, although three or four old sheep made
strenuous efforts to escape to one side and gain the woods, particularly
one called "old Mag." This venerable ewe was in great trouble about her
twin lambs that strayed continually in the press. The old hussy found
opportunity, however, to dart out betwixt Addison and myself, and
reached cover of a little hemlock thicket, with one of her lambs. But
anxiety for the other one caused her to emerge again, bleating, when she
was surrounded and ignominiously driven into the pen.
By this time the water was running as warm as fresh milk; and after
taking breath, the Old Squire and Addison removed their coats, rolled up
their sleeves and took their stations at the two tubs. Halstead, too,
prepared to assist.
"Now," said Addison, "let's each one have his or her particular part to
do. I will name you, sir" (addressing Gramp), "_Chief Washer_, if you
please. You may stand at the first, or lower, tub and take each sheep as
it comes from the yard. I will name Halse your _Assistant Washer_. I
will be _Rinser_ and stand at the second, or upper tub. Our new cousin
here, I shall name _Catcher_. It is to be his business to catch the
sheep in the yard and bring them, one by one, to the _Chief Washer_, and
also take them back from the _Rinser_ to the yard; and he will have to
look out sharp, or some of those strong, young sheep will throw him.
Fact, I think I will name Nell, who is pretty nimble and strong,
_Assistant Catcher_. She is to help hold and pull them along to the
tub--and pick Catcher up, if he gets thrown. Wealthy may be
_Sheep-Hole-Tender_; she must guard the sheep-hole and open and close it
with the spruce bush, as ordered by the Catcher and Assistant Catcher.
"I shall name Gram, if she has no objection, _Chief Fireman_, and Doad
her assistant. It is to be their business to put the wood and dry stuff
which we have gathered under the pipe and keep a good fire going.
"Are you all satisfied with your parts?" he then asked.
We all expressed ourselves delighted, except Halse, who desired to be
Catcher, instead of Assistant Washer. Thereupon I offered to resign in
his favor; but for reasons which they did not explain fully, the Old
Squire and Addison opposed my resignation. Halse grumbled a little, but
at length acquiesced.
"Now then," continued Addison, "every one to his or her station, and the
business of the day will open."
Still laughing a good deal, we took our places.
Elevating his voice, Addison then called out, "Catcher, do your duty!"
The Sheep-Hole-Tender hauled aside the bush and Catcher, followed by
Assistant Catcher, entered the yard.
"Take a little one, to begin with," whispered Ellen, who apparently
distrusted my competence for the office. That nettled me and, instead, I
made a plunge for a big wether and fastened both hands into his wool.
The animal gave a tremendous jump and then went round about that yard,
into corners and over the backs of the other sheep, at a rate of speed
that was simply distracting! But I held on. First, I was on my back,
with the rest of the flock leaping overhead. The Assistant Catcher
couldn't overtake us. At last, she turned and ran the other way and
headed us into a corner, and there the wether fell down and I fell on
top of him; and when the flock got done running by, I looked up and saw
that the Chief Washer, Rinser, Chief Fireman and their Assistants had
all left their posts and were peering over the fence into the yard, with
faces wearing every appearance of excessive mirth.
But Addison cried out, "Hurrah for the Catcher!" and that relieved my
embarrassment considerably.
My Assistant, however, looked coldly at me.
"What in the world possessed you to grab that biggest sheep first?" she
commented, as we dragged the now nearly breathless beast out at the
sheep-hole. "And you mustn't run at them in such a savage way. No wonder
the poor thing was scared! Go toward them more calm and gentle-like."
It appeared to me highly unbecoming that my Assistant should take it
upon herself to lecture her superior after that fashion; and I promptly
informed her (my blood being pretty hot by this time) that I would thank
her to obey orders and give advice when it was asked for. Much abashed
at this unexpected blast of spunk, cousin Ellen asked my pardon. When I
delivered the sheep into the hands of the Chief Washer, old gentleman
gazed benignly at me and simply remarked, "Well, well, sir, you had a
dusty time of it, didn't you? But you'll learn, you'll learn, my boy."
They proceeded to soap the animal by pouring strong suds into its wool,
and then seizing it by the legs, threw it upon its side in the tub of
water. Thereupon another struggle ensued, during which the Chief Washer
and his Assistant were plentifully spattered; but the experienced
calmness with which the former bore it, greatly excited my admiration.
After perhaps three or four minutes of scrubbing and squeezing the wool,
the now bedraggled and hopelessly patient creature was passed on to the
Rinser, who in turn immersed and rinsed it in the cleaner water of the
upper tub. Meantime another sheep had been required from the Catcher,
who again entered the yard, followed by his Assistant. This time I was
quite content to attempt the capture of a smaller one, and to approach
the animal in a less precipitate manner; for much as I had spurned my
cousin's advice at the moment of receiving it, I now recognized its
value.
The Catcher and his Assistant were kept very busy during the remainder
of the forenoon, for the Chief Washer was an experienced and rapid
operator. Some of the young sheep proved wild and refractory; and I
remember that both Ellen and I grew very tired by the time the last of
the seventy had been caught, subdued, dragged to the tub, and then
dragged back to the yard from the Rinser's tub. I for one had had quite
enough of it, and was content to sit down and look on, while Halstead,
Addison and Theodora caught several of the lambs, and ducked them in the
tub, by way, as they said, of giving them an early lesson and a
foretaste of what they would have to encounter the next spring, in the
regular order of things.
The fire was now allowed to subside under the water-pipe; and the Chief
Fireman declared that she and the girls must set off for the house at
once, in order to prepare dinner, for by this time the sun was nearing
the meridian and every one getting hungry.
It was an easy matter to drive the now docile and water-soaked flock
back to pasture; and we left pipe and tubs at the brook for our
neighbors. When we returned from the pasture, Gram and the girls had a
hastily prepared meal in readiness, consisting of fried eggs, bacon, and
a "five minute pudding" with cream. What a flavor it all had! My only
fear for some minutes was, lest there would not be half enough of it!
While at table, Rinser, Assistant Washer, Catcher and even Chief Washer
and Chief Fireman laughed a great deal as the various incidents and
mishaps of the morning were recounted. It is certain that work always
passes off much more pleasantly when it is enlivened by some such
play-plan as that which Addison had devised.