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^nes to grace the_stem. It meant dozens and doze,is of squash and pumpkins staring up at us, now uncovered ing them in and saving the biggest, roundest ones to carve as Jack 0' Lanterns for Halloween. It meant bursting with potatoes. It meant seeing mother and vegetables. How pretty the peaches, pears, apricots, cherries and tomatoes looked in their clean, shiny bottles. I felt secure when mother explained that when the cold winds blew and the barren ground lay blanketed with snow, there would to share with others. Harvest time also meant father with needles and twine preparing the canvasses to put in the was fascinating to follow the binder in the field and to watch the big scythe cut the grain, gather yellow bundles out onto the ground. I never ceased bundles all by itself. Sometimes I helped my father and brothers stand groups of bundles uoright against each other, or to "shalk the grain" as we called it. The shalking protected the grain from rust or summer storms that some times came before it could be hauled threshing. Threshing! Harvest time, perhaps most of all, oats. One threshing day, I and the other younger children woke early* j umped into our clothes, gulx^^d Sown our usual dish of cooked germade or oatmeal, and ran out into the yard. We climbed up onto our 57 |
