grain with straw bands and throw it out of the way so the machine could make the next round. This was much easier than cutting grain the old way with a hand cradle. Enoch Richins drove into our field with the first self binder machine I ever saw.
        All threshing machines in use during my early life were run by horse-power. About five or six teams were hooked together on the power machine and they went round and round, each team followed the team ahead and was tied solidly to the sweep ahead. One man would sit with a long whip on the horse powered machine, so he could reach any horse with the whip if he was lagging behind. It needed a man with good judgement and ability. Much also depended on the grain pitchers who were expected to keep bundles going steady tot he band cutter. That it needed a good grain feeder like Will Edwards, Bishop Ritchie, Geo. W. Noakes or Alma Wagstaff and others of early day threshing hands, to feed the grain regularly into the mouth of the separator. No better grain pitcher could be found than my brother Wm. H. Winterton and if around the machine, he would be tabling bundles because they called for him and he loved to do it. Sometimes feelings could arise because it was thought the driver of the horse power was favoring his own horse.
        Threshing time was a hard time for the women. At that time, they had to prepare three meals a day for about fifteen men; beginning with breakfast at daylight.
        The farmer furnished all the meals and all hay and grain for the horses which furnished the power. In those early days, threshing time was a great time for me, until I had to get in the grain bin with a shovel or bucket and throw the grain back so the grain carriers could empty their sacks easier. However, I didn’t mind it so much when such men as Hyrum B. North would praise me and tell me I could have one of his daughters if I would do a good job keeping the grain back out of his way. Be it sufficient to say, he beat me out of my pay!
        Until now, I have told the stories as I remember them and as I listened to my Father and Mother tell them. They loved to talk of the earlier life and experiences. Those fireside chats had a profound influence upon my life. We were free to ask questions if we wanted more enlightenment on any subject. I wanted to know how Mother felt, and I asked her. Was she al all discouraged? Was she ever sorry she had ever left her comfortable and happy home in England never to see her mother and many loved ones again? My mother’s answers were always so inspiring, so filled with faith and hope. Above all, she was glad to be here in these latter days. I tell you, it was my mother that played the greater part in planting in my heart a love for the Gospel and a desire to be a missionary to proclaim the glad tidings. Why should I not want to go? Was I not receiving the blessings of God, the Mormon missionaries had left their homes and families to carry the glad tidings of the Gospel and my home in this favored land because the servants of God, the missionaries had left their homes and families to carry the glad tidings to my parents? My mother often said I was given the name Hyrum Shurtliff because Elder Shurtliff had done so much for her in making arrangements for her passage to America. While I was in Oakland, California, in November 1953, I told this story to Mrs. Ruth Shurtliff, the mother of Sherrill Shurtliff. Then I learned that her Grandfather Shurtliff was on a mission and in the city of Nottingham in 1869, the very

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