The days of the old threshing ring.......

font: Thery Handwriting

 

When the wheat and the oats are golden yellow

And the combines are out 'Doing their thing',

Just how many of us can remember

The days of the the old threshing ring?

 

I can still see that big old steam engine

As it slowly came puffing up the lane:

Pulling behind it the large separator

That soon would be threshing our grain.

 

Then along would come the teams and the wagons

And from the fields all the sheaves they would bring:

Yes, we even had a boy to bring us water

In the days of 'The Old Threshing Ring.'

 

Then, at noon, Mom would call us all in for dinner

To a big meal that was fit for a king:

And even though she didn't pitch any bundles

She had her place in 'The Old Threshing Ring'.

 

When all the wheat and the oats were in the granary

And we had a big straw-stack back of the barn:

The 'Old Huber' and its separator

Would pull on down to our neighbors' farm.

 

When the threshing in the ring was all over

Then at someone's house, we would meet:

To settle up our account with the thresher

And have all the ice cream and cake we could eat.

 

But today, the story is quite different

And no more do we hear 'the whine and the sing'

Of the big belts on that 'Old Huber' thresher

Back in the days of 'The Old Threshing Ring'.

Done