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Show 47 whose flames were lost in the noonday glare, but which produced coals, over which he put the black frying pan and fried bacon or ham, warmed potatoes, sometimes fried eggs. We had thick slices of home-made bread and butter and the men had coffee, which they drank boiling. We had milk, somewhat warmed from the sun, radishes and onions. Twice a day a tremendous event occurred-the passenger train hooted and puffed along the track which bisected our field. The morning train headed north, the afternoon one headed south, dispensing passengers, freight and mail to all the little towns. Sometimes we had a bonus-a freight train with a caboose, and sometimes the section gang pumped its way along the track. Sometimes we put pins, crossed, on the track and they came out flattened to little scizzors. Once we put spikes and almost derailed the section gang. But this came later. Now the dullness was deadly. The sun beat down and the land gave off waves of shimmering heat. My eyes melted and ran together, the gnats sang their thin and irritating songs in my ears and nipped at my tender skin. I was apathetic with discouragement, alone most of the time while the other thinners bounced along their rows, feeling superior as compared to me, and jabbered happily. When they did get near enough for me to hear they passed me like a freight-train does a tramp. My only contact with the world was Papa as he blocked his way up and down. Uncle Will ignored me. I felt as insignificant as one of the clods of the field and moved about as fast. When Papa's back was turned on his downward journey |
