nd piled in the wood-houses and under a
shed. Here the axe still rules the winter, and it may be heard all
day and every day upon the wood-pile, or echoing through the
frost-bound wood, the coat of the chopper hanging to a limb, and his
white chips strewing the snow.

Many cattle need much hay; hence in dairy sections haying is the
period of "storm and stress" in the farmer's year. To get the hay
in, in good condition, and before the grass gets too ripe, is a
great matter. All the energies and resources of the farm are bent to
this purpose. It is a thirty or forty days' war, in which the farmer
and his "hands" are pitted against the heat and the rain and the
legions of timothy and clover. Everything about it has the urge, the
hurry, the excitement of a battle. Outside help is procured; men
flock in from adjoining counties, where the ruling industry is
something else and is less imperative; coopers, blacksmiths, and
laborers of various kinds drop their tools, and take down their
scythes and go in quest of a job in haying. Every man is expected to
pitch his endeavors in a little higher key than at any other kind of
work. The wages are extra, and the work must correspond. The men are
in the meadow by half-past four or five in the morning, and mow an
hour or two before breakfast. A good mower is proud of his skill. He
does not "lop in," and his "pointing out" is perfect, and you can
hardly see the ribs of his swath. He stands up to his grass and
strikes level and sure. He will turn a double down through the
stoutest grass, and when the hay is raked away you will not find a
spear left standing. The Americans are--or were--the best mowers. A
foreigner could never quite give the masterly touch. The hayfield
has its code. One man must not take another's swath unless he
expects to be crowded. Each expects to take his turn leading the
band. The scythe may be so whetted as to ring out a saucy challenge
to the rest. It is not good manners to mow up too close to your
neighbor, unless you are trying to keep out of the way of the man
behind you. Many a race has been brought on by some one being a
little indiscreet in this respect. Two men may mow all day together
under the impression that each is trying to put the other through.
The one that leads strikes out briskly, and the other, not to be
outdone, follows close. Thus the blood of each is soon up; a little
heat begets more heat, and it is fairly a race before long. It is a
great