we took things kind of easy. The men put
in the horses and got the machine going, and Ole Iverson was up on the
deck, cutting bands. I was sitting against a straw-stack, trying to get
some shade. My wagon wasn't going out first, and somehow I felt the heat
awful that day. The sun was so hot like it was going to burn the world
up. After a while I see a man coming across the stubble, and when he
got close I see it was a tramp. His toes stuck out of his shoes, and
he hadn't shaved for a long while, and his eyes was awful red and wild,
like he had some sickness. He comes right up and begins to talk like he
knows me already. He says: 'The ponds in this country is done got so low
a man couldn't drownd himself in one of 'em.'

'I told him nobody wanted to drownd themselves, but if we didn't have
rain soon we'd have to pump water for the cattle.

'"Oh, cattle," he says, "you'll all take care of your cattle! Ain't you
got no beer here?" I told him he'd have to go to the Bohemians for beer;
the Norwegians didn't have none when they threshed. "My God!" he says,
"so it's Norwegians now, is it? I thought this was Americy."

'Then he goes up to the machine and yells out to Ole Iverson, "Hello,
partner, let me up there. I can cut bands, and I'm tired of trampin'. I
won't go no farther."

'I tried to make signs to Ole, 'cause I thought that man was crazy and
might get the machine stopped up. But Ole, he was glad to get down out
of the sun and chaff--it gets down your neck and sticks to you something
awful when it's hot like that. So Ole jumped down and crawled under one
of the wagons for shade, and the tramp got on the machine. He cut bands
all right for a few minutes, and then, Mrs. Harling, he waved his hand
to me and jumped head-first right into the threshing machine after the
wheat.

'I begun to scream, and the men run to stop the horses, but the belt had
sucked him down, and by the time they got her stopped, he was all beat
and cut to pieces. He was wedged in so tight it was a hard job to get
him out, and the machine ain't never worked right since.'

'Was he clear dead, Tony?' we cried.

'Was he dead? Well, I guess so! There, now, Nina's all upset. We won't
talk about it. Don't you cry, Nina. No old tramp won't get you while
Tony's here.'

Mrs. Harling spoke up sternly. 'Stop crying, Nina, or I'll always send
you upstairs when Antonia tells us about the country. Did they never
find out where he came from, Antonia?'

'N