PADUTCH-LIFE-L Archives

From: "Vee L. Housman" <>
Subject: 42-Butcher Days
Date: Sun, 06 Sep 1998 14:27:29 -0400

BUTCHER DAYS

Butcher day is around the corner with plenty of
leftover scraps and sausage for those who helped. It
was one of the biggest days for us on the farm. The
excitement would build up as the time approached to
catch the pigs and slaughter the beef. My father
would rise long before daybreak to start a fire under
the kettle for boiling the pork. One after another the
neighbors would drop by with old empty lard cans.
The pigs were slaughtered just as soon as there was
enough light to get started. Generally about nine to
ten pigs were needed.

About ten o'clock we were sent out to drive the
cattle to be slaughtered from their stalls. I remember
how our hearts used to jump at the sharp crack of
the rifle as the cattle slumped and fell. By noon the
meat chopper would be rattling, and the sausage
stuffing turning in the tub. The meat for the
liverwurst would be cooking in a kettle, and how
many times did we overeat on the fresh, cooked pork
kidneys until we got sick and threw up?

In the afternoons about four o'clock, the
sausage stuffing would begin, and we'd enjoy that
about as much as anything. About that time
someone would say, "Boys, now go feed the
livestock." We never waited to be told twice and
never talked back like boys do nowadays. Father's
boot was made from harness leather, and it fit only
too well under our coat tails. On the way to the barn
we'd see a black cat sitting on a scrap of beef. The
chickens would be standing around on one leg
waiting for their corn. The pig stable would be
empty, and behind it we'd see a dog chewing on a
beef head. By the time we'd thrown down the hay,
straw, and corn fodder; watered the horses, and
fought with hungry cows while trying to get them
fed, the excitement of the day would be about over,
and supper would be ready--fried sausage,
liverwurst, fat round cookies, and apple pie.

Talk at the supper table would go like this:

“You turned a good batch of sausage."

"Yaw, but there's too much salt."

"I thought it needed more coriander."

And so it went around the supper table.
Everyone had his six cents worth of small talk to
offer, and soon the day would be gone; the day that
we began with so much excitement and anticipation.
Could we have gone to a butcher shop in town to
enjoy ourselves as much? I don't see how. And so,
butcher day was truly one of our biggest days on the
farm.

* * *

Note: This collection of Boonastiel stories was written by H. A.
Harter in the original Penna-Dutch dialect and were published in the
Keystone Gazette, Bellefonte, PA, between 1894 and 1904. They
were translated and transcribed by Bob James of Alaska and they
are being posted to this PADUTCH-LIFE mailing list with his
permission.

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• 42-Butcher Days by "Vee L. Housman" <>