He is dressed in the customary farmer’s work clothes of the time: blue gingham shirt, overalls worn out at the knees, leather boots, and a straw hat with a sweat-stained brim. Gently leaning on the plow handles, he takes a large red bandana from his pocket and wipes his brow and sweatband of his hat. A jug of “swizzel” sets in the shade of a nearby hedge-row, and he slakes his thirst with a refreshing drink of this home-made and popular drink of the time. It is composed of ginger, sugar, water, and vinegar — no doubt a much healthier drink than the Pepsi or Coke of today.  Grasping the plow handles and with the command of “gee-up” to Dan and Duke, the two trusty and hardworking draft horses, there begins another 12-inch furrow across the field with only an occasional pause to kick over a furrow left on edge, or to remove an up-turned rock, later to be picked up with a so-called stone boat.  This is a yearly spring job resulting from frost action. After many tedious hours of plowing, the next step is to go over the plowed land with a disc harrow to loosen the soil, followed by a spike tooth or smoothing harrow to smooth the land ready for planting.

Little did my father know then that the Industrial Revolution would make available tractors with gang plows of 6 or more that would plow in an hour what it took my Dad to do in a day with horses. No longer a need to stop for rest.  One now relaxes in an air-conditioned cab with a radio and a cold drink by your side.

However, there is something missing — the close-up smell of the newly turned earth.

Dick Thayer – April 18, 2008