img Henry Ford's Own Story  /  Chapter 1 ONE SUMMER'S DAY | 3.33%
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Henry Ford's Own Story

Henry Ford's Own Story

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Chapter 1 ONE SUMMER'S DAY

Word Count: 1408    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

ir presses heavily down on the stifling country fields, and in every farmyard the chicken

iving the big bay a friendly slap and fastening the trace as she

her-wise. Every field of his 300-acre farm was well cared for, yielding richly every year; his cattle were fat and sleek, his big red barns t

agines them working there, lifting great forksful of the clover-scented hay, tossing them into the rack, where, on the rising mound, the youngest man was kept busy sh

to take long swallows from the water jugs, hidden, for coolness, under

m the measure of a man is the part he takes in man's work. In the cities, where men work against men, let them build up artificial distinctions; on the farm the fight is

nly for calling in the men at dinnertime or for some emergency alarm. Every man stopped. It was only

te longer and then turned back to work, a little more slowly this time, with the boss gone. A few minutes later th

came, spattering in big drops on their straw hats and making a pleasant rustling on the t

t into a stall, while another pulled the light cart under the shed. Dinner time came and passed. There was no call from the house, and they did not go in. Once i

the clouds broke. Later William Ford came out of the house and crossed

e occasion. I know that when they apologetically mentioned the spoiled ha

e men asked him as they stood around the cider j

ed him already-

aid, and while William Ford said nothing he must have looked over his green rolling acres wit

pinafores, tumbling about the house or making daring excursions into the barnyard, the stronghold of the dreadful turkey gobbler, h

s to be encountered about the farm, might well be thought enough to fill any woman's mind an

hem in harvesting time; pickles, jams, jellies, sweet cider, vinegar must be made and stored away on the cellar shelves. When the hogs were killed in the fall there were sausages, head-cheese, pickled pigs' feet to prepare, hams and shoulders to be soake

her husband had in managing the farm. She found time, too, to be neighborly, to visit her friends, care for one of them who f

f a big farm horse and let him ride around the barnyard, or perhaps he was allowed to carry a spiced drink of vinegar and water to the men working in the harvest field. He learned every corner of the hay-mow, and had a serious interview wit

men lighted the charcoal in the forge and Henry might pull the bellows till the fire glowed and the iron buried in it shone white-hot. Then the sparks flew from the anv

n a momentous event occurred-small enough in itself, but

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