TALES OF THE FARM HIRED MAN
Any record of New England rural life would be incomplete that left out
the farm hired man.
The farm employer who does not make a careful study of how to get the
best service he can from his help, and at the same time retain that
good will and cheerful co-operation which are so essential to pleasant
personal relations, is not likely to succeed to any satisfactory degree.
The Hand Mowers at Murray’s
Mr. Murray conducted a large and somewhat rocky farm in the days before
farm machinery had been developed to anything like its present state
of efficiency. He had a large field of grass that he was in a hurry to
cut and put in the barn. The field was pretty nearly rectangular and
one July day Mr. Murray devised a very ingenious plan. There were four
hired men to undertake the job of mowing the field with hand scythes.
Three of these men were assigned brief tasks, the fourth taking his
place to turn the grindstone while the proprietor ground the scythe.
This man was then told to mow around the field.
Another man was called up to perform the same duty at the grindstone,
after which he was sent after number one. The third and fourth each
took their turn and was started after the others.
It took just about the same time at the grindstone as to mow across
one side of the rectangular field. Consequently number one was just
starting on the last lap when number four struck in behind the others.
The owner’s scheme was now plain to the four mowers. He was expecting
each man would exert himself to overtake the next one. But instead of
being resentful, the humor of the situation appealed to them. They
entered into the spirit of the occasion with enthusiasm and before
twelve noon they had completed their tasks and made a record.
Naturally the owner of the farm was much pleased with the result of
his carefully laid out plan. But it is not to be supposed that other
occasions did not furnish opportunity for the hired men to get even.
The farm holder who tries crafty methods to secure abnormal production
by his employees must expect to see the score balanced sooner or later.
* * * * *
That “Hope springs eternal in the human breast,” is shown by endless
demonstrations. A conspicuous example of that hope appeared in the
unique experience of the country editor.
The Sporting Venture of the Country Editor
In a certain green valley of a New England state, there was a race
course.... There were many gamey horses in that valley and the speeding
fever ran high. Several successive trotting events associated with
agricultural fairs, had drawn the attention of horse lovers to the
excellent track. And so it came about that the editor of a little
country weekly, who lived some distance away, conceived a brilliant
plan. Tired of the meager rewards of news gathering, he decided to
organize a trotting tournament on this popular track and make a grand
coup.
Therefore he made his announcements of several races for which he
solicited entries by well-known horsemen. The response in this respect
was disappointing, but he felt sure the revenues from gate admissions
would make the venture successful.
The eventful day was fair and the editor was quite elated to see a
considerable crowd gathering to watch the races. This state of mind,
however, received a rude shock when he sauntered out to the entrance to
get an estimate on the receipts. He found to his dismay that a large
proportion of the admissions had been on the strength of an annual pass.
Hastening to the secretary of the Association, he was blandly informed
that the grading of the track had been done on a co-operative plan by
which all the farmers of the valley who contributed a certain amount
of labor were entitled to admission at all times, except during the
week when the annual fair was being held.
This was a staggering blow. He was under obligations to pay the
trotting purses and the prospects were that he would be several hundred
dollars out of pocket. Accordingly he hastened to the owners of the
trotting horses and proposed that they accept a pro rata percentage
of the premiums as substitutes for the full amounts. He was coolly
informed that they didn’t do business that way. Considering themselves
victimized, the owners began to take their horses off the grounds.
It was about at this point that real trouble began to loom up. Of those
visitors who had actually paid good money for admission, there was
a large element of farm hired men. They began to clamor for action.
They wanted what they had paid for. Getting no satisfaction from the
race horse people, they demanded an audience with the editor. He was
invisible. Finally someone reported that he had been seen entering the
woods in the rear of the grounds.
Just as the vociferous youths had about decided to organize a hunt and
capture the fugitive dead or alive, a carriage came dashing through
the gateway and a well-known citizen pulled up his horse before the
crowd, and demanded the attention of all. He said the gentleman by his
side was the man they were looking for and that, although he had been
alarmed by their threatening manner and had hastened away, he had come
back to face the music.
The editor now arose and announced that he had arranged for the race
events to be carried out. The volatile spirits of the boys were quickly
evident. The races were called. The horses performed in a satisfactory
manner and harmony reigned.
But back in seclusion the poor country editor was signing time notes to
make up the losses of the day.
And yet hope springs eternal!
The husky farm hand who works hard during the day might be expected to
retire early. And indeed he often does; but there are occasions when he
does not find it necessary.
It is really astonishing how much day and night work the healthy
outdoor worker of twenty or twenty-five can endure.
“I’ve Found the Spring”
It was late summer and very busy times on the farm, but this did not
stand in the way of plans for a certain evening’s festivities. These
plans involved several young men, a robust but tender young rooster and
a supply of fresh, green corn, also for roasting purposes.
The scenes of these activities were on the shore of a little lake. The
fringe of trees stretching along the shore allowed the selection of a
location which was invisible to all but the parties interested.
The banquet was a great success. The corn was delicious and the roast
chicken even more so. There was an abundance of jokes and time passed
rapidly.
A supply of fresh water had been brought from the lake, but it was warm
and tasteless. Finally one of the boys suggested that he thought there
was a cold spring near by, if they could only locate it.
Away from the cheerful blaze of the bonfire, the shores of the lake
were dark as Egypt. But finally one of the boys said he believed he
could find that spring. Taking a small, tin pail, which they had
thoughtfully brought with them, he started out.
Nothing could be seen of the young man, but his flounderings about
among the dense underbrush were plainly audible. Time passed and he
seemed to have had considerable difficulty in locating the spring.
Conversation died away, as all were watching and listening. Suddenly
there came a noise of a succession of ramblings about in the bushes,
followed by a loud splash as of someone falling heavily in the lake.
The young men by the bonfire leaped to their feet. They were alarmed
but speedily reassured.
There was a gurgling noise for a moment, next the sound of someone
swimming in the lake and later pulling himself up by the bushes,
and then the well-known voice of the missing man came back with the
cheering words:
“Boys, I have found the spring!”
* * * * *
As before stated, it is the tactful farm owner who secures the most
satisfactory production in the way of farm labor. The professional
farm hand with years of experience behind him, is quite prone to be
resentful of criticism.
The Expert Who Repaired the Fences
One of these old-time laborers was employed by a man who owned several
adjacent farms and there was always a superabundance of work on hand.
This farmer had a large mountain pasture for his young cattle and it
was rather essential that the fences be secure, as otherwise the cattle
might break through, wander away and be hopelessly astray before they
were missed.
One spring an old veteran farm hand was intrusted with the task of
repairing these fences. After several days, he reported that everything
was all right and was assigned to other work. A day or two later, a man
residing on the other side of the mountain, reported that the young
cattle had broken out and were in his enclosure.
The “boys,” including the veteran aforesaid, were sent after the
strayers and devoted the entire afternoon in getting them back into
their proper domain. The next morning the same veteran fence fixer set
out again with instructions to make a thorough job of the repairs this
time, so that there would be no further trouble. He spent another day
on the fences and came back at night with positive assurances to the
owner that the young cattle could not possibly go astray again.
Two or three days later, the same neighbor came from the same distant
farm, informing them that the cattle had once more broken through the
fences and again a rescue party was sent after the wanderers.
That evening at the supper table those present seemed disposed to
consider the entire matter a pretty good joke on the fence builder,
who expressed his unqualified amazement as to how the fence could have
given away after all he had done to put it in repair.
The owner of the farm who had listened to the various jocose comments
in silence, finally volunteered an explanation:
“Probably a chipmunk ran along the fence somewhere and broke it down.”
When next the fence builder reported a satisfactory job, his guarantee
was found to be reliable.
* * * * *
Sometimes the farm hand becomes a fixture in the family and is regarded
with real affection by those whom he has seen grow up from childhood.
The Man Who “Arrived In a Great Hurry”
In a certain bustling New England city, there was a young married woman
who retained a very considerable regard for the “hired man” who had
lived in her family from her earliest recollections, even until the
present. It was her great desire to have “Uncle Harvey” come down to
her city home and let her show him around. As he had scarcely ever left
the town in which he was born and had passed his lifetime, this lady
could see great possibilities of entertainment for herself as well as
for Uncle Harvey. Making her annual summer visit at the old homestead,
she repeated her invitation with such earnestness that Uncle Harvey was
finally, but with evident reluctance, induced to promise to visit her
without fail that fall.
Every time she wrote home she sent reminders that she had the old man’s
positive promise and that he must not fail her. Finally he decided he
had to go.
Uncle Harvey had had very little experience in railroad travel and it
was quite a good many miles from the farm to the city home where he
was to be entertained. After considerable discussion as to whether he
should take a very early train that stopped at all stations, or go on a
later express train, he was finally induced to take his chances on the
fast train, although if left to his own choice he would have preferred
the slower train as probably being more safe to travel on.
With a new traveling bag, especially purchased for the occasion,
carefully packed for him, Uncle Harvey, in a stunning new suit
complete, was carried to the railroad station, assisted to buy his
ticket and escorted onto the train. His excitement was manifest,
although with pretended calmness he tried to keep it hidden. His escort
shook the old man’s hand warmly and reminded him that he had promised
to write a postal card as soon as he reached his destination.
The train moved out of the station and Uncle Harvey was lost to sight,
but true to his promise he sent the postal card which arrived at the
farm the very next day. It was as follows:
“Dear Folks:
I am here safe and sound. Ethel met me at the station. I am
having a fine time.
P. S. I arrived in a great hurry about three o’clock.
Uncle Harvey.”
It is one of the delightful tributes to our present civilization that
it is perfectly possible for an intelligent woman to live an entire
lifetime and still be so shielded from the sordid things in life as to
be hardly aware of their existence.
“Where’s Hadlock?”
In the cheery kitchen of an old but beautiful New England farmhouse, an
elderly woman was busily engaged in preparing the evening meal. She was
a woman of education and broad sympathies, prominent in the church and
in all good works. Her kindly solicitude for the household took into
account even the most transient laborer temporarily employed on the
farm.
One of the hands who had lived at the farm for several years was taking
a short vacation. It had vaguely come to the ears of the kind lady that
this man had been known to indulge a little too freely in stimulants.
It seemed to her, however, that there must be some mistake about these
rumors, in view of the never-failing good behavior, respectful manner
and general capability of the man in his relations with the family and
the farm.
Sad to say on this occasion above mentioned, there was disillusionment
in store for this friendly lady.
The kitchen door opened and the man who had been on vacation entered.
The cheery welcome with which she was about to greet him was checked on
her lips. Somehow he looked strange----different.
Standing in the entrance to the room and swaying slightly on his feet,
the man, whose hat was tilted a little to one side, inquired in tones
of solemn gravity:
“Where’s Hadlock?”
The woman looked at him in utter bewilderment. He smiled a silly smile
and again asked the question:
“Shay, where’s Hadlock?”
And now it dawned upon this estimable old lady that those stories which
had come to her in the past must have had some foundation. For the man
who was asking this question was Hadlock himself.
* * * * *
Many tales have been told of the French-Canadian “habitant” which would
imply that he is a very conservative person. It would appear, however,
that when he becomes transplanted on a farm in “the States,” he is
quite capable of getting up to date.
A French-Canadian Version of Employers’ Liability Insurance
A wide awake “Canuck” who was branching out as a progressive farmer in
a New England state, became much interested in a proposed employers’
liability bill which was up for discussion in the legislature. Some
of his friends, being a little skeptical, he proceeded to make the
matter clear to them----how successfully the reader may judge from the
following:
“All dose farmer mans be protect so when hees ole mare kick himself up,
broke it the harness, kill de wagon and de hire mans; or if the mow
machine run away from de span hoss and kill the whole beesness, hire
man, machine and horse,----What for that farmer mans hees be blame in
dis bill? No, sir; I guess not!”
End of Project Gutenberg's New England Joke Lore, by Arthur George Crandall