ad several sons, and one manifested a
particular interest in his repeated failures. From the time he was seven
years old Cyrus Hall McCormick became his father's closest companion.
Others might ridicule and revile, but this chubby, bright-eyed,
intelligent little boy was always the keenest listener, the one comfort
which the father had against his jeering neighbors. He also became his
father's constant associate in his rough workshop. Soon, however, the
older man noticed a change in their relations. The boy was becoming
the teacher, and the father was taught. By the time Cyrus was eighteen,
indeed, he had advanced so far beyond his father that the latter had
become merely a proud observer. Young McCormick threw into the discard
all his father's ideas and struck out on entirely new lines. By the time
he had reached his twenty-second birthday he had constructed a machine
which, in all its essential details, is the one which we have today. He
had introduced seven principles, all of which are an indispensable part
of every reaper constructed now. One afternoon he drove his unlovely
contraption upon his father's farm, with no witnesses except his own
family. This group now witnessed the first successful attempt ever made
to reap with machinery. A few days later young McCormick gave a
public exhibition at Steele's Tavern, cutting six acres of oats in
an afternoon. The popular ridicule soon changed into acclaim; the new
invention was exhibited in a public square and Cyrus McCormick became a
local celebrity. Perhaps the words that pleased him most, however, were
those spoken by his father. "I am proud," said the old man, "to have a
son who can do what I failed to do."

This McCormick reaper dates from 1831; but it represented merely the
beginnings of the modern machine. It performed only a single function;
it simply cut the crop. When its sliding blade had performed this task,
the grain fell back upon a platform, and a farm hand, walking alongside,
raked this off upon the ground. A number of human harvesters followed,
picked up the bundles, and tied a few strips of grain around them,
making the sheaf. The work was exceedingly wearying and particularly
hard upon the women who were frequently impressed into service as
farm-hands. About 1858 two farmers named Marsh, who lived near De Kalb,
Illinois, solved this problem. They attached to their McCormick reaper a
moving platform upon which the cut grain was deposited. A footboard was