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 Harley is one of Doc’s favorite people. Harley is
a farmer. A 24/7 farmer. Ol’ Harley can make hair grow on a bald
head and wheat grow on rocks.
When he’d been thumped and bumped and listened to and pumped up and
partially drained, Harley asked Doc for the verdict.
“Not bad at all for someone your age, Harley,” Doc said, grinning.
“But you look tired. Take some time off and go fishing or take
Gladys to the beach.”
“Can’t right now, Doc,” Harley said. “Plowing summer fallow.”
“Well, how about later on?”
“There’s harvest you know, and the trees will have to be pruned
before winter, and then the winter wheat will go in. Have to
overhaul the wheel tractor this winter and by then it’ll be time to
plant.” [to top of second
column] |
“Harley, you need two weeks with
nothing to do. Get someone to help with the farm and go do something
fun.”
“I just can’t do it in two weeks, Doc,” Harley said. “Took 60 years
of farming to get this tired.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
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