There was lots of corn in the country that fall. Perhaps a corn
sheller would bring in a little extra money, our older brother
thought, so he bought a horse-power sheller and started shelling
corn for the neighbors. If I remember correctly, he got half cent
per bushel.
One day, as he came over the hill with the sheller and the four
horses that powered it, we observed that he was also towing a
monstrosity. It had two great big fly wheels mounted on a running
gear with a tin smokestack in front. It was a Stickney gas engine
for pulling the sheller. After he got the Stickney he still
continued to drag along the horses for power in an emergency. One
cold day while they were shelling corn, the Stickney gas engine
missed an explosion and the next second parts were flying in all
directions. The horses started running away, and so did the men.
When the excitement subsided, there was no Stickney gas engine.
Only the running gear on which it had been mounted was left lying
on its side in the yard. Pieces of broken metal were found all over
the lace, but none of them resembled the gasoline engine that had
been firing so loudly at irregular intervals just a few minutes
before. Some of the pieces had lodged in the corn sheller, ruining
that also. That ended the corn-shelling venture.
