Scythe and Sickle
It is a long time since I cut rushes for thatch and used a scythe. Once I could lay a fairly neat swath, and go forward with a movement that was not too jerky, but the day of such ability is far behind me, as far behind as the day when I had my hands on the stilts of a ploligh and urged two fine Clydesdales across an old stubble. I was then ,no more than a schoolboy home for a holiday. Last week the nettles were choking the path down through the wood so badly that I volunteered to try the new scythe. I took off my jacket, put the stone in my hip-pocket—hip-pockets these days are not cut to take a stick of carborundum—and marched off feeling grand. Alas for my enthusiasm ! The handles of the scythe raised two blisters, and perspiration ma into my eyes. The nettles fell in a ragged tangle, and the insects rose from the debris and devoured me. I cut a path, it is true, but a sickle is a better tool for a man whose skill has gone. The result of sickle-work is expected to look rough and untidy, while mowing should leave neatness and order.
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