The amount of work before us startled my wife. This unexpected harvest, which added reaping and threshing to the fishing, salting, and pickling already on hand, quite troubled her.
`Only think,' said she, `of my beloved potatoes and manioc roots! What is to become of them, I should like to know? It is time to take them up, and how to manage it, with all this press of work, I can't see.'
`Don't be downhearted, wife,' said I; `there is no immediate hurry about the manioc, and digging potatoes in this fine, light soil is easy work compared to what it is in Switzerland, while as to planting more, that will not be necessary if we leave the younger plants in the ground. The harvest we must conduct after the Italian fashion, which, although anything but economical, will save time and trouble, and as we are to have two crops in the year, we need not be too particular.'
Without further delay, I commenced leveling a large space of firm clayey ground to act as a threshing floor; it was well sprinkled with water, rolled, beaten, and stamped; as the sun dried the moisture it was watered anew, and the treatment continued until it became as flat, hard, and smooth as a threshing floor need be.
Our largest wicker basket was then slung between Storm and Grumble; we armed ourselves with reaping hooks, and went forth to gather in the corn in the simplest and most expeditious manner imaginable. I told my reapers not to concern themselves about the length of the straw, but to grasp the corn where it was convenient to them, without stooping; each was to wind a stalk around his own handful, and throw it into the basket; in this way great labour was saved.
The plan pleased the boys immensely, and in a short time the basket had been filled many times, and the field displayed a quantity of tall, headless stubble, which perfectly horrified the mother, so extravagant and untidy did she consider our work.
`This is dreadful!' cried she; `you have left numbers of ears growing on short stalks, and look at that splendid straw completely wasted! I don't approve of your Italian fashion at all.'
`It is not a bad plan, I can assure you, wife, and the Italians do not waste the straw by not cutting it with the grain; having more arable than pasture land, they use this high stubble for their cattle, letting them feed in it, and eat what grain is left; afterward, allowing the grass to grow up among it, they mow all together for winter fodder. And now for threshing, also in Italian fashion. We shall find it spares our arms and backs as much in that as in reaping.'
The little sheaves were laid in a large circle on the floor, the boys mounted Storm, Grumble, Lightfoot, and Hurry, starting off at a brisk trot, with many a merry jest, and round they went, trampling and stamping out the grain, while dust and chaff flew in clouds about them.
My wife and I were incessantly occupied with hayforks, by means of which we shook up and moved the sheaves over which the threshers rode, so as to throw them in the track.