Corn-Farm Boy Read Online Free PDF Page B

Cultivating is easy. Want me to show you how?”
    â€œYes,” said Dick. “I sure do.”
    Uncle Henry took Dad’s place and Dick jumped on beside him. Dick rode standing and they started off. Dad stood by and watched. They went around the bend and lost sight of Dad.
    â€œKeep your eyes on the rows ahead, and follow their curve,” said Uncle Henry. “When the rows get short, you keep turning …”
    They were at the end of the field now, on a fairly steep slope. Uncle Henry began to turn. He backed and went ahead several times. Dick looked behind.
    â€œUncle Henry!” he shouted. “Don’t go around in circles . You’re turning on the corn! ”
    Uncle Henry scowled and started off in a new direction.
    Dick looked behind and called out again: “Uncle Henry, where are you going? You’re taking a whole row of corn out.”
    Uncle Henry looked back. He stopped the tractor.
    â€œNow, where am I?” he asked. He looked worried. “Gosh! I’m lost. I don’t know which way to go. Where’s your Dad?”
    â€œUp that way.” Dick pointed.
    â€œWe’ll head back up there then.”
    Uncle Henry cut across several rows and after a while came back to the place where Mark Hoffman was waiting.
    â€œUncle Henry got lost, Dad!” called Dick.
    Uncle Henry made it all sound like a big joke. He did not tell how much corn he had plowed out.
    â€œHow did you like it?” asked Dad.
    â€œI admit it’s easier to go up and down in straight rows, Mark,” said Uncle Henry. “But still, contouring helps the crop. Water can’t wash the land away so easy. But—I’m a city man myself. I’ll leave all this hard work to you farmers.” He grinned at Dick. “It’s your turn now, boy.”
    Dick looked at Dad, who nodded. Dick was surprised. Had Dad forgotten that first tractor tumble, or was he just giving in to Uncle Henry? Dick mounted the tractor seat and Dad gave him some instructions.
    â€œO. K. Dick,” Dad said. “Watch out for the curves.”
    Dick started off with Dad and Uncle Henry watching. Then they went off to another part of the field. The small triangular shovels on the cultivator turned the soft black earth, destroying weeds and leaving only the young corn plants, whose leaves, like green ribbons, waved in the wind.
    Dick liked to be out in the field alone. He wished the tractor would not make so much noise, so he could hear the birds better. Dick felt happier than he had been for a long time. He began to sing and yodel and to make up songs of his own. He tried to out-shout the tractor. He saw that blackbirds and crows were following the cultivator to pick up worms. Big old Buster followed for a while, then dashed off to chase a rabbit in the oats field.
    Dick began to wish the rows were straight. It was hard to steer on the winding curves. The contour idea was all Uncle Henry’s. But Dad was right—it was much harder and took longer. You had to watch out every minute. On straight rows, you just went straight back and forth. You did not have to turn first one way, then another; on the outside of a curve, then on the inside.
    The wind began to blow. The dirt dried fast and dust blew up in the boy’s face. That made it hard for Dick to see the road ahead. He kept brushing dirt off with his sleeve. But he kept steadily on. He had to prove to the men that that first tumble meant nothing and that he could really manage a tractor. He took the turns without trouble.
    After several hours had passed, Dick began to feel tired. His legs got numb from sitting still so long. The air was chilly, not half so warm as when he started. He turned at the edge of the field and stopped the tractor. He stood up and stretched.

    He looked across the rolling fields. There were four farms in this square mile, the Heiters, the Hasses, the Rudens and the Hoffmans. Dick could see a dark grove outlined