ALMOST

From: Murder Incorporated - In a Keg

by Harold J. Treherne

ragedies and comedies have often been a part of the Harvest scene and combines have verily had their share.

I had a small six-foot power take-off machine and the kids, just like the bees, insisted on swarming all over everything. They did, while it was idle, but "scat" was the order otherwise.

John, the youngest, was 8 at the time, a persistent nipper and as a compromise he rode in the low grain tank. An angle iron across the bottom formed a good perch and he had a grandstand view of the works. As the wheat rolled out of the spout he would ride the pile, ending up sitting on top.

This one day his head was above the tank as usual at the start of the round. In a few minutes I looked back. Everything was going well. Half a mile farther on, a sudden "something" caused me to look behind. John's head was still above the tank and so was the wheat - almost. He was up to his neck in it! Instead of rising with the "tide" he thought this was a better idea, at least, till he was really stuck. He never said a word though.

Did you ever try to lift a stone frozen to the ground?

I headed for the wagon pronto and dumped the grain and was he ever tickled pink to shed that straitjacket!