 
reaping generally came about the 20th of july, the hottest and dryest part 
of the summer, and was the most pressing work of the year. 
it demanded early rising for the men, and it meant an all-day broiling over 
the kitchen stove for the women. 
stern, incessant toil went on inside and out from dawn till sunset, no 
matter how the thermometer sizzled. 
on many days the mercury mounted to ninety-five in the shade, but with 
wide fields all yellowing at the same moment, no one thought of laying off. 
a storm might sweep it flat, or if neglected too long it might crinkle. 
no task save that of cradling surpassed in severity binding on a station. 
it was a full-grown man's job, but every boy was ambitious to try his hand, 
and when at fourteen years of age i was promoted from bundle boy to be one of 
the five hands to bind after the reaper, i went to my corner with joy and 
confidence. 
for two years i had been serving as binder on the corners (to keep the 
grain out of the way of the horses), and i knew my job. 
i was short and broad-shouldered, with large, strong hands admirably 
adapted for this work, and for the first two hours easily held my own with the 
rest of the crew; but as the morning wore on and the sun grew hotter my 
enthusiasm waned. 
a painful void developed in my chest. 
my breakfast had been ample, but no mere stomachful of food could carry a 
growing boy through five hours of desperate toil. 
along about a quarter of ten i began to scan the field with anxious eye, 
longing to see harriet and the promised luncheon basket. 
