The Lord of the Harvest #230714

From rook-scaring and stone-picking, when barely breeched, to the position of head horseman was certainly a stride, but a stride that meant the same routine. To sow and to reap for others was he born, the poor-house would most likely shelter his old age, for thus seemed it good to the Almighty. Harvest evoked a jovial mood, and even the stolid Elisha felt himself at a kind of fete. His white teeth now gleamed, his eyes very nearly sparkled as he suddenly threw down his sickle, sprang to his feet, and, glancing along the line of serried reapers, shouted.