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Updated: June 13, 2025
I call that criminal neglect arising from crass ignorance. Why, these scars that adorn many parts of my body are the foot-prints of evolution, if, indeed, evolution makes tracks. The scars on the faces of those students at Heidelberg are accounted badges of honor, but they cannot compare with the big scar on my left knee that came to me as the free gift of a corn-knife.
In the fields, too, the sights and sounds of falling, the fall of the standing fatness. The silent fall of the tobacco, to be hung head downward in fragrant sheds and barns. The felling whack of the corn-knife and the rustling of the blades, as the workman gathers within his arm the top-heavy stalks and presses them into the bulging shock.
That, in itself, was shocking; a married man was not expected to do such things. But it was nothing to the scene that followed. Crazy Mary darted out from the group of women at the church door, and ran down the road after Lena, shouting horrible threats. “Look out, you Lena Lingard, look out! I’ll come over with a corn-knife one day and trim some of that shape off you.
Aunt Martha used to bring us flowers for the office table, and it was her delight to sit down and take out her corn-knife as she called it and go after the town shams. She has promised a dozen times to write an article for the paper, which she says we dare not print, entitled "Self-made Women I Have Known."
When the lesson was over, we used to go up to the watermelon patch behind the garden. I split the melons with an old corn-knife, and we lifted out the hearts and ate them with the juice trickling through our fingers. The white Christmas melons we did not touch, but we watched them with curiosity. They were to be picked late, when the hard frosts had set in, and put away for winter use.
"And what is the first thing for me to do?" asked Glen. "Excellent talk, that, my boy. What would you advise as to the first thing." "I suppose you can't do much exploring while the corn stands. It should be cut." "It should, and it must be cut in the old fashioned way. Did you ever cut corn in the old fashioned way?" "You mean with a corn-knife.
I must never go to the garden without a heavy stick or a corn-knife; she had killed a good many rattlers on her way back and forth. A little girl who lived on the Black Hawk road was bitten on the ankle and had been sick all summer. I can remember exactly how the country looked to me as I walked beside my grandmother along the faint wagon-tracks on that early September morning.
The stalks are worth more for fodder, and you run no risk from an early frost, which would spile it all. You and Merton pitch in as yer allers do, and this is the way ter do it." With his left hand gathering the stalks of a hill together above the ears, he cut them all olf with one blow of the corn-knife within six inches of the ground, and then leaned them against the stalks of an uncut hill.
He snorts through his mustache. He gurgles out the Spanish for "Ha, ha!". Then he unlimbers a sword like a corn-knife, reaches out a rough hairy paw, and proceeds to yank our young hero rudely from the fond embrace. Just like that. And here again I missed a detail or two.
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