Watching a belt-driven threshing machine "thrashin'" oats, these three likely worked in the heat and chaff of that bygone era. No demonstration then for fairgoers. It was a serious slice of late summer, getting the crops in before the frosts of fall and the winds of winter. Wonder what memories they might express if they dared. Recollections of dads, uncles, brothers and cousins, Mother and the girls bringing coffee time and lunch in any shade that could be shared. The sweat, the dust, the banter, the noise, a cool drink from a Mason jar, laced with a lemon or orange wedge or two. Does it seem that long ago?