It was threshing day at Frank Andrew\u27s place. The yard was filled with horses and racks and wagons..

Aegerter, Verda

English

It was threshing day at Frank Andrew's place. The yard was filled with horses and racks and wagons...</p

Digital Repository @ Iowa State University (ISU)

Threshing Dinner by Verda Aegerter T WAS threshing day at Frank Andrews* place. T h e yard was filled with horses and racks and wagons. T h e hum of the thresher as it separated the grain from the straw was like a throbbing pulse that surrounded the whole farm. Frank's wife Jessie stood alone in the center of the big farm house kitchen. She stood with hands on her hips sur-veying with critical eye the result of her morning's baking. Eight golden brown pies sat in a row on the table. Four were filled with thick juicy slices of the yellow harvest apples from Frank's own orchard, and the other four had big red cherries, the finest Jessie could buy. Some of the pies were still very hot, and the gentle puff from the boiling fruit made the top crusts rise and fall in a few last miniature eruptions as they cooled. T h e spicy smell of the apples, mingled with the tart sharp odor of cherries and the rich brown crusts covered them all. "There now," said Jessie. "I do hope they taste as good as they look." "And just in time too," she thought as little Frankie called in from his lookout station on the back step. [ 3 ] 4 Sketch "Here they come, Jessie," he said. Jessie put her hand to her hair and straightened her apron. "My land sakes! Smells like you got some bakin' started in here/' said Minnie Peters as she bounced into the kitchen and looked around with quick little piercing eyes. She was followed into the house by four other ladies, the neighbors who had offered to change help. They all stared silently at the pies. Minnie was first to recover. "Miz Andrews, you really been workin', ain't ya? We came early so's to help with bakin'." The others added similar comments. "She baked eight pies before nine-thirty!" "Smell real good, too." "Apple, I bet. What's these, cherry?" Jessie laughed a little nervously as she answered them. "Don't worry," she said. "There's plenty of other things you can help with." She pulled a slip of paper from her apron pocket. "Let's see now, one of you can peel potatoes, and two others can get the table boards out, and I need a hand to get the stone jar up from the cellar for tea." Minnie stepped up beside her and put one arm around Jessie's slim waist. "Wouldn't we just know it!" she laughed. "This little schoolmarm has it all written down on paper," They all laughed gaily and Jessie felt a hot blush cover her cheeks. "Now, Minnie, don't be hard on her. Guess this is her first threshin' dinner," said Mrs. Jamison. She was the fat one with big braids of red hair and many brown freckles. She smiled at Jessie sweetly, then continued, "How you been gettin' along here really? Bet this house was a mess with Frank batchin' here these eight er nine years." They all looked around the room as if in search of some evidence of neglect. Jessie laughed again. "Not at all," she answered. "Frank is quite a neat housekeeper, and anyways we have been married nearly four months now, and I think we have made the house quite livable." Fall, i960 5 "Oh, course you have," said Minnie Peters banging the dishpan into the sink where she began washing potatoes vigorously. "Want to see how you got the front room ar-ranged soon as we come to a breathin' spell." Mrs. Watson, the skinny one with a long nose and sad mouth, looked meaningly toward the door, then said softly against the back of her hand, "How about the boy? He give you any trouble?" "Little Frankie? Why no, he's no trouble. He's a very quiet child," Jessie added. "Umm," said Minnie, "could be too quiet. I 'd keep my eye on him. Gonna be hard on you raisin' another woman's boy." She shook her gray head sadly. T h e other ladies added their sympathy and comments. Jessie didn' t say anything. She knew they had come partly to help and partly to see. She almost hated them as she looked around the room and listened to their chattering tongues. "Let's get that stone jar up ," said Mrs. Watson. Jessie was rather glad to leave the room. As they struggled u p the steep stairs with the heavy stone jar between them Jessie asked Mrs. Watson if she had known Frank's first wife. "Laura? Sure I knew her. Prettiest little thing ever lived. Sure can't ever see why she had to be called home at such a young age. Only twenty-one she was. Thought for a few days they wouldn' t save the baby either." She wiped her eyes on one corner of her apron and sniffed loudly. Jessie was sorry she had asked. "Oh dear," she thought. "I seem to be doing and saying everything wrong." They set the jar on the porch and went inside again. Minnie Peters stood with the refrigerator door open, one hand on the handle. "Been jest dyin' to look in this thing ever since I heard you had it," she explained. "Sure, go ahead," said Jessie dryly. "My stars an ' bars," exclaimed Minnie. "She's got toma-toes all sliced an' ready, and look at the cabbage slaw! Celery, cheese — what's in this big pan? Chicken! All cut up ready for fryin! Ain't you got beef roast in the oven?" "Yes, I have," Jessie answered. She was glad she could show them that a mere schoolmarm could cook, but she felt 6 Sketch as if she were on a witness stand defending herself for being able to cook. ''Don't you folks always have two kinds of meat? I thought Frank said it would be expected/' "Well — sure, but anything you would have would be so much better than they been havin' here the past years." Minnie was flouring chicken as she talked. "Frank had his mother here two or three years, but then she was gettin' on, and couldn't stand it. Took 'em all in town last couple years to the Greek's place." "I know it!" said Mrs. Watson. "I told him over and over they could come over to our place and save some expense as wrell as time, but then you know howT Frank is!" They all nodded. "For goodness sake," Jessie thought. "They go on as if T don't even know Frank." She wanted to yell at them and say, "Look, you magpies, I'm his wife. / live here now. This is my kitchen you are making yourselves at home in." Instead she set out a long flat pan and began opening cans of corn. "You havin' scalloped corn too?" asked Thin-nose. "Well, O.K., let me roll your crackers." When the corn was ready, they put it on the top rack of the oven and Jessie tested the roasting meat while the oven was open. It was coming nicely. She glanced at the clock. Ten forty-five. She tried to remember her time schedule. She was afraid to look at her paper again before the women, so she pulled several towels from the drawer in the hall and ran out into the yard. "Frankie!" she called to the little boy. He was perched on the wooden gate now. "You want to come help me hang these towels?" she asked him. "We need to fix a place for the men to wash up. You run back in the house for some soap while I move this bench over." She moved the washbench to a tree near the clothesline and left the towels for Frankie to hang. Then she found two pails in the shed to fill with water and set in the sun to be warmed. As she worked alone for these few minutes, Jessie consulted her written schedule and tried to think things out. "Pickles to open, jam and butter, make coffee, cool the tea and add ice." She took a deep breath before she went Fall, i960 7 back to the house. She almost forced herself to smile and enter the kitchen again. The ladies had moved into the dining room now, and they were busily discussing her table linen and dishes as they set them out. "You got a piece of oilcloth to lay over for the machine men's place?" said Minnie. "You ain't? Well, papers will do then/' "Wish I'd thought to bring mine." whined Mrs. Watson. "Roy Nelson could try to wash better, too," snapped Minnie. "Seems like he uses that engine as an excuse to go dirty all summer long." "How many places can you set?" asked Mrs. Watson. "Twelve, I think," said Jessie. "That will be about right for two tables, won't it?" "Yep, jest right," said Minnie. "Hazel had twenty-three at hers yesterday." "Did you help her too?" Jessie wanted to know. "Always help Hazel every year," Minnie answered sharply. They set the table in silence. "You havin' 'em again tomorrow?" asked Minnie. "Yes, but Frank wasn't sure it would take until noon— I~" "Well, you better plan on it. We'll all be back to help," Minnie said flatly. They all seemed to be willing, so Jessie didn't argue. She went back to the kitchen to finish final preparations. She put long yellow sweet potatoes in the glass baking dishes and covered them with brown sugar and big spoons of butter. As she worked she decided what they could have for to-morrow. Maybe after dinner she could make cakes and fix some peaches. The time went quickly, and before Jessie heard them the men were on the side porch outside the dining room jostling and laughing as they lined up for places at the table. Then she heard them and wished she had not. "Hey, Fred, s'pose we'll get canned beans?" "Haw! Haw! Haw! Sure will." "Maybe yore all wrong, Fred. Maybe she's real tony and 8 Sketch it'll be 'horses dores' like they had in that movie." "Haw! Haw! Haw!" They were crowding right u p to the door as Jessie and the other ladies put the food on the table. The big platter of fried chicken was at one end of the long table and the roast beef cut in thick rectangles on an equally large platter at the other. T h e space between was filled with dishes of corn, cabbage slaw, red juicy tomatoes, the candied sweet potatoes, and the fluffy white potatoes mashed and whipped into frothy peaks. Two kinds of gravy, one with chicken flavoring and the other made from the beef juice, sat in their proper places beside the meat platters. T h e iced tea was ready to be poured, and twTo coffee pots held dark brown, very strong coffee. T h e pies were cut into thick wedges and placed on pie plates on the side board, to be served later. Jessie looked at the table and checked items. 'Tickles, green and crisp, celery, cheese, bread, apple butter, straw-berry jam; surely no one could go hungry today," she thought. A hand touched her arm. She turned. Frank stood beside her grinning proudly. "It looks like a real fine dinner, Jessie." "Hey, Frank! You gonna let us in or d'we hafta kick the door down?" said one of the men outside. The shoving and scuffling on the porch was loud and boisterous now, as the smell of the cooked food reached the noses of the hungry threshers. Frank squeezed Jessie's hand and then went to unhook the screen door. Twelve men who had earned their right to be first by some dubious system filed in and took places around the table. They were very quiet now. Only the scuffle of hard heels on the floor and the scraping of chairs could be heard for several minutes. As the food was passed from one to an-other and plates were quickly filled, Jessie heard two or three low whistles of admiration. "Taste it!" she said to herself. "Hur ry and eat some." But they didn't need to be urged. T h e murmurs of approval and Fall, i960 9 the speed with which the plates were emptied were almost all Jessie needed. Then her cup was overflowing when Frank held up the meat platter for her to fill again and said in a loud voice, "Eat up, fellas. There's more in the kitchen. Sure got me a cook, didn't I?" Jessie took the meat platter and hurried out of the room, so he wouldn't see her cry. Hate Town by Joyce Branson MARGE! Hi, Marge!" The boy had brightened when she walked through the door of the interrogation room. Then, quieter, with less spirit, "I'm glad you're here." "Oh, Steve!" The girl rushed past the police officer who had led her into the little room to the boy. She knelt before him as he sat on the only piece of furniture in the room, a streaked wood bench. She rested her forearms on his knees and peered into his dark eyes. "What happened, Steve?" The boy glanced about the barren room. The officer had gone. The two, looking so much alike that they were un-mistakably brother and sister, were alone. Softly, he said, "I clouted Dad. With a baseball bat." "I know. I found that out at the hospital. But why?" 

Threshing Dinner

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Threshing Dinner

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