#232 A noisy drunken farmer-Another Jane Story

In Carlisle, like many small communities at that time, there was a farmers' market. Local farmers would bring their produce to the market for sale. In the early 1900’s that was the primary method for many farmer’s to sell their produce.

Jane’s family lived in a duplex in a developing area. It was situated on one of the roads that led to the country. Jane remembers one farmer who would load his horse-drawn wagon every Saturday. This particular farmer would bring his produce to the market. Among the things he brought with him was a bottle of his favorite alcoholic libation. Jane has no remembrance if it was home brew or not. The odds are that it was. The farmer always made a day of it. When the market closed he would go to a local tavern, have his evening meal and more drinks with friends. This farmer went to market every Saturday during the harvest period.

In the time prior to air conditioning, most folks kept their windows open at night. Around two AM, this farmer would be returning to his farm. It was his ritual to sing his favorite song, Give me that old time religion. This wouldn’t have been so bad if his voice wasn’t so loud and he didn’t sing off key. It easy to imagine what nipping on the bottle all day will do. Having a few more drinks during the evening only added to his vocal performance. Jane remembers that you could usually tell if he had had a good day by the volume and exuberance of his performance.

Did I mention that he had a booming voice?

It was fortunate that his horse knew the way back to the barn.

#232