Corn-Farm Boy

by Lois Lenski

  “Mom!” cried Wilma. “Dick walks down the street once and he’s ready for the car. Why, we only just came.”

  “I want to go home,” insisted Dick.

  “Mom,” Wilma complained. “We can’t go anywhere but Dick has to fuss about sick hogs or some old sick pet of his.”

  Nobody paid any attention to Dick. Dad and Margy saw the family party and came across the street. Dick knew now he was in for a prolonged session. He perched himself up on the hood of somebody’s car close at hand.

  They all looked at Margy. Margy had always been a pretty child and as the baby, had enjoyed being spoiled. Since her adventure of getting lost in the cornfield, she seldom lost an opportunity to become the center of attention. They were all looking at her now.

  “First Mr. Heiter bought me popcorn,” the little girl said. “Then Charlie Ruden a sandwich and Grandpa Shute some pop and Dad a hamburger …”

  “Only one hamburger?” asked Uncle Henry.

  Margy nodded and went on. “I was still hungry, but they didn’t offer me anything more. I had to buy my ice-cream cone myself!”

  They all laughed.

  “You’d never believe it,” said Mom, “but she had a good supper too, before she left home.”

  “She doesn’t look exactly starved,” said Aunt Etta. “She’ll have to start reducing soon!”

  “Margy,” said Uncle Henry, “do you still play hide-and-seek in the cornfield?”

  “No,” smiled Margy happily. “I got cured of that!”

  They laughed again.

  Uncle Henry turned to Dad and said, “Another week of this heat and we won’t have to worry about our corn crop.” The men began to talk corn.

  Aunt Etta turned to Mom. “I wanted Henry to take us to the show tonight but he wouldn’t. Said he had to talk to Mark. Those men—they plant the corn and raise it and harvest it every time they get together—in words. That’s all they talk about—corn, corn, corn. I should think you’d be sick to death of it.”

  “I’m used to it,” said Mom. “Besides it’s our life, so I like it.”

  The men debated when to sell last year’s corn.

  “The corncrib is so full,” said Mark, “I’ll have to shell to make room for the new crop this fall. Then I also need corn to fatten my hogs for market.”

  “I need the cash from mine,” said Uncle Henry. “Your lease says you’ll deliver my share. So go ahead and shell any time now and truck mine to the elevator here in town.”

  “O. K.,” said Mark Hoffman. “I’ll find out when Jay Hintz can come.”

  Dick saw a man he knew. He jumped down from his perch and followed him. It was Doc Musfelt, the old Vet. Here was some one who would listen. The old Vet rubbed his chin thoughtfully after he heard Dick’s story.

  “With hogs,” he said, “you can’t tell. They’re getting so many new diseases these days. Isolate her at once—that’s the first thing. If something gets started, it might go through the whole herd.”

  “Can you come out and see her?” asked Dick.

  “I’m helping my son vaccinate hogs for cholera right now,” said Doc. “He’s got so many places to go. You come over to the office now. I’ll give you some medicine for that sick hog.”

  They walked to the veterinarian’s office. Doc prepared the medicine and told Dick when to give it. “If she’s not better by tomorrow,” he said, “you phone me and I’ll come out and see her.”

  Dick thanked him, took the package and hurried back to Dirks’ Store. The two families were still talking. Denny had fallen down and cut his knee and Aunt Etta was fussing over him.

  When Uncle Henry saw Dick, he turned to Dad and said, “Dick tells me you’ve got a sick hog at home, Mark.”

  Dad tried to grin, but it was easy to see he was annoyed. “The boy thought it looked sick,” he said.

  Raymond had come over. Now he spoke up, “Doctor Dick takes care of all our sick animals.”

  But Uncle Henry was not joking this time.

  “You’re not neglecting a sick hog, are you, Mark?”

  “No,” said Dad, frowning. “I’ll look after it. Let’s go home.”

  “Doc Musfelt gave me something to give to Squeaky,” said Dick.

  Goodbyes were said and the two families parted. Dad did not speak to Dick all the way home. When they got out of the car, he asked, “What did Doc give you?”

  Dick handed him the medicine.

  They went out to the hog lot together.

  CHAPTER IX

  Stubby Tail

  “Dick! Raymond!” Dad’s booming voice woke the boys up out of deep sleep. “Time to get up. Chores to do. Corn shelling today.”

  It did not take the boys long to get dressed. Already breakfast was on the table and Mom had started preparing a big dinner for a group of hungry men. By seven-thirty, there were two trucks in the barnyard, several cars, tractors and wagons, and Jay Hintz’s corn shelling machine.

  Dick called Popcorn. “Come along, Dum Do Do! You and the cats will have a busy time today.”

  The men had started to work. Dick saw Bill Heiter and his hired man, Ted Sanders, the two truckers Al Kibler and Emil Spies, Ralph Hass and Grandpa Shute. Soon Uncle Henry Shumaker drove in. He was taking a day off from the factory.

  After finishing his chores, Dick went over to watch.

  The lower boards on the side of the corncrib had been pried off. A metal trough was placed below to catch the ear corn as it fell out. The men scooped the corn down into the trough with their shovels. Revolving chains in the trough carried the corn to the sheller which stood at one end of the building. A truck was backed up under a bent-over spout.

  Jay Hintz had the motor going. The machine made a noisy clatter as the ear corn ran through. Shelled corn came pouring out into the truck. Corncobs came out in a pile at the side. They would be used for many purposes—to burn in the kitchen range, with coal for the tank heater, and in the old stove in the wash-house to heat water for laundry and baths. Other cobs would be dumped in the lane to fill up low spots and make for better traction. A fan blew cornhusks out of the sheller and they dropped in a pile. Later they would be put in the lean-to behind the barn for bedding for the cattle.

  “Here’s a big strong farmer come out to help us,” said Uncle Henry. He poked Dick in the ribs. “Go get your shovel, boy.”

  Dick laughed. He saw the Rudens’ car come in, with Russell and Elmer besides their father. They all got out and Elmer came over to see Dick.

  “Hi!” said Elmer. “A little excitement today, huh?”

  “Yes,” said Dick. “The dogs and cats are excited, too. They don’t know which way to jump first.”

  Jay Hintz kept his eyes on the sheller and an oil can in his hand. If he heard a funny sound, he tinkered with the engine. Dust and dirt flew in all directions. It settled on the men’s faces and eyebrows. They scooped busily, trying to keep up with the machine.

  All at once a big rat and several mice came tumbling out. Buster turned tail and ran off, frightened. But Popcorn and the barn cats chased them.

  “I’ll get me a club,” said Elmer. He disappeared and came back with a heavy two-by-four. “I’ll club them as they come out.”

  Dick stood back and said nothing.

  “We might scare up a coon or a skunk, Elmer,” yelled Ted Sanders. “How would it be to run a skunk through the sheller and take his fur off?”

  The men laughed.

  “When the Bauers shelled up north of us,” shouted Charlie Ruden, “that’s just what they did. We could smell skunk down to our place for a whole week.”

  “Up at Reuters,” said Grandpa Shute, “they chased a coon out. Those kids of theirs they caught and tamed it.”

  “Here’s the boy can tame the wild things,” said Ted Sanders. He pointed to Dick.

  “Dig me out a coon, Ted,” said Dick, “but don’t run it through the sheller. I prefer to have my pets in one piece.”

  Dick’s Dad worked with the men pushing the corn down. Popco
rn got in at his feet, rooting for a rat.

  “That dog is death on rats,” said Ted Sanders.

  “I guess all rat terriers are like that,” said Dick.

  “Take Popcorn away before I step on him,” yelled Dad. “If all this corn comes pouring down on his head, there won’t be anything left but a grease spot.”

  Dick grabbed Popcorn up and tried to hold him. But Buster was barking noisily back of the corncrib. Popcorn jumped out of his arms and dashed around the corner. Dick followed. He tipped over an old oil barrel that stood there, expecting to see a rat. Buster and Popcorn were ready to dash under. But they stopped and backed up. Instead of a rat, Dick saw a snake curled up. Buster took one look at the snake and ran in the other direction.

  “Oh! So it’s you, is it?” asked Dick, surprised.

  “What is it?” yelled Ted Sanders, coming round the corner.

  “A snake,” said Dick.

  “A snake?” Elmer Ruden came running.

  By the time Elmer got there, the snake had slid back under the crib. Popcorn began to sniff again. The snake’s head appeared. Popcorn barked loudly.

  “Let’s pull him out,” said Ted.

  Ted grabbed the snake by the neck and gave a pull. The snake slid back and left him empty-handed.

  Elmer turned to Dick. “I bet you’re afraid to pick it up.”

  They waited until the snake’s head appeared.

  “There! Grab it,” said Elmer, “unless you’re a sissy.”

  Dick moved slowly. He picked the snake up carefully. He drew the long body slowly out from its hiding place. He carried it into the empty corncrib and laid it gently on the floor. Popcorn came in and began to bark. The snake started hissing. It struck once or twice but missed the dog.

  “I’ll get my shovel,” said Ted. “I’ll kill it for you.”

  “I’ll get my club and help,” said Elmer.

  Quickly Dick grabbed Popcorn up in his arms. “You mustn’t get snakebit, you Twerp.” The snake began to move. “Hurry now, quick,” said Dick to the snake. “This is your only chance to get away.” The snake slid down a hole out of sight.

  “Where’s the snake?” asked Ted, returning.

  “Oh, it got away,” said Dick. “It was a harmless bull snake. It will do away with a lot of mice and rats.”

  “Where’s the snake?” asked Elmer, coming back club in hand.

  “It got away,” said Dick.

  “Say, boys,” said Ted. “Want me to show you how to make a cornstalk fiddle?”

  “Sure,” said the boys.

  But Mr. Heiter called Ted and he had to go back to work.

  “Wait till corn picking time,” he said. “Stalks are too green now. You can play a tune on it, too.” He went around the barn.

  The boys liked Ted, for he was full of ideas.

  Dick turned to Elmer. “Did you ever eat a grasshopper?” he asked.

  “No,” said Elmer. “Whoever thought of such a thing?”

  “Well, Ted told me once if I’d eat a grasshopper, he’d eat one too.”

  “And did you?” asked Elmer, laughing. “I bet a dollar you did, stupid.”

  Dick would not say yes or no. Elmer kept pressing him. At last he admitted, “Oh, it was Ted who backed out on it …”

  Suddenly a terrific clatter was heard. The two boys ran back to the sheller. Jay Hintz whirled around, thinking something had gone wrong with the motor. He stopped the engine quickly and stared in surprise. There was Dick’s mother. She had brought a metal bushel basket and was holding it under the spout to fill it with corncobs. They made a loud clatter as they hit the metal of the basket.

  “I need a few cobs for the kitchen stove,” Mrs. Hoffman explained.

  The men laughed.

  “Help yourself,” said Jay. Then he added, “Just like a woman to scare us to death. I thought my sheller was exploding like an A-bomb! Now, why couldn’t she take them off the cob pile?”

  “Dick,” called Mom, halfway back to the house. “Come and help me.”

  “I wonder when we get something to eat,” said Ted Sanders. He looked toward the back door.

  “Here comes lunch,” said Grandpa Shute.

  Dick and his mother and Wilma brought out a midmorning lunch. Jay Hintz stopped the sheller and Dick passed meat sandwiches and doughnuts around. Wilma poured hot coffee in paper cups. After a short pause for eating, the motor was started again and the men resumed work. As the trucks became filled with the shelled corn, the truckers drove them off to town.

  At noon, the men stopped for dinner and a good rest. Up back of the house, they took turns washing hands and faces in two enamel basins on the bench. They pumped cold water from the cistern pump. They slicked up their hair before a small wall mirror on the porch, using comb and brush in an oilcloth pocket there.

  Dick came up while the men were washing. Ted Sanders had his hair all slicked up nicely, when suddenly a shower of cold water poured over him. The water bucket and dipper fell to the ground with a clatter. Ted mopped his face with the towel and looked around to see who had thrown it. Dick stepped behind Grandpa Shute. The men all looked innocent. Then they broke into a roar of noisy laughter.

  “That’s one on you, Ted,” said Bill Heiter.

  “I was just needin’ a cold shower to cool me off,” drawled Ted.

  “Guess who did it, Ted,” piped up Elmer Ruden.

  “Never mind, his time’s comin’,” said Ted.

  Dick washed up and went in with the men to the long table.

  “Oh, look at our big farmer here!” cried Uncle Henry. “When are you going to do a little farm work and earn your salt, Dick? Are you sure you scooped enough corn to deserve a fine dinner like this?”

  “I didn’t scoop any,” said Dick. “I just—”

  All the men were looking at him. His face turned red.

  “Sit down, Dick,” said Dad quietly. “There’s a place beside Elmer.”

  Dick sat down and Uncle Henry took the place next to Dick. The men began to talk. Mrs. Hoffman had plenty to eat—a large platterful of pork chops, several bowls of mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw and mixed salad, pickles and fresh fruit, fruit gelatin and freshly baked rolls and butter. Mom waited on table, keeping the dishes circulating and the men’s plates filled. Wilma poured iced tea into their tall glasses.

  Dick was hungry and ate fast. He was thirsty too and reached for his glass. He took a big swallow—then looked at the contents of the glass. It was not brown like tea. It was some thick white stuff, but it wasn’t milk. He tried to spit it out, but his mouth was filled with bubbles. The more he tried to get rid of them, the more bubbles he made. What did it taste like? Soap! That was it—SOAP!

  “What the heck!” mumbled Dick.

  “Oh, you took the wrong glass,” said Elmer. “That was intended for—”

  With one look at Ted, Dick jumped up from the table and ran outside. He had to rinse his mouth many times before he got rid of the taste of soap flakes. Loud guffaws came from the dining room. Dick did not go back to the table again. He knew the men would razz him if he did. Mom brought his plate to the kitchen and he finished eating there.

  “I never did a thing to Ted, Mom,” said Dick. “I never threw that water on him, but I saw who did it.”

  “Oh, Ted knows your Uncle Henry did it,” said Mom. “Don’t worry, he’ll take care of him all right. Too bad you got hold of Uncle Henry’s glass by mistake.” Then she added, “They like their little jokes.”

  After dinner the men went out to work again. The time for joking was over and they were serious again. The shovels scooped the ear corn into the noisy machine as before. Ted Sanders kept promising Dick a raccoon, but none turned up. Buster and Popcorn got tired and ran off to rest in the shade. Dick wandered away. The excitement had all worn off. He was tired but did not like to admit it. He strolled over and looked at the hogs. He spotted Squeaky in the bunch. She was well again now and as fat and frisky as the others. That medicine from Doc Musfelt had
saved her in the nick of time.

  In the barnyard Russell Ruden sat on Uncle Henry’s tractor with a flare box wagon behind. He was starting off to town with a load of shelled corn. Uncle Henry stood talking to him. As Dick passed by, Uncle Henry called him over.

  “Bet you’d like to be sitting up there on my tractor and driving to town like Russ, wouldn’t you, Dick?” asked Uncle Henry.

  “I sure would,” said Dick.

  “I’ll stay here and scoop corn and let you take it in, Dick,” said Russ.

  “Dad won’t let me drive,” said Dick, turning away.

  Russell started his motor and drove off.

  Uncle Henry looked at Dick and said, “Don’t you like that nice little tractor of mine any more, Dick?”

  “Sure I do,” said Dick. “I’ve never seen a better one.”

  “When are you going to start being a farmer, Dick?” asked Uncle Henry. “I’m serious about this. At your age, your brother Raymond was driving farm machinery just like a man. Aren’t you tired of just standing around all summer and doing nothing? Do you like being a sissy? I should think you’d want to be your Dad’s right-hand man.”

  Dick winced. “I’d sure like to, Uncle Henry—” the boy began.

  Dad called just then and Uncle Henry went over to see what was wanted.

  Dick stood still, thinking. He wondered if Uncle Henry was right. Maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough. Maybe it was all Mom’s fault—telling him not to do this and not to do that and keeping him a baby. Maybe if he tried harder, his muscles would get stronger. Maybe he could forget that old rheumatism and do all the things that other boys of his age could do. Some day he would just like to show everybody he was no sissy.

  In midafternoon, Dick came bursting into the house.

  “Mom!” he called. “Uncle Henry says I can drive his new tractor to town. I’m to take a wagonload of corn in.”

  “No!” said Mom. “Is Uncle Henry crazy?”

  “Dad said I could,” insisted Dick. “The truckers went home early and there’s only one wagonload still to go. Dad and Uncle Henry both said I could take it.” He turned to Margy. “Keep Popcorn in the house, will you? I don’t want him to follow me.”