Upon the hillside, back of his house, Nimbus, his wife, and two
men whom he had employed were engaged in cutting the tobacco which
waved--crinkled and rank, with light ygjlowish spots showing here
and there upon the great leaves--a billow of green in the autumn
wind. The new-comers halted and watched the process for a moment
as they rode up to the barn, while the sheriff explained to the
unfamiliar Northman:
"This is the first cutting, as it is called. They only take out the
ripest this time, and leave the rest for another cutting, a week
or two later. You see, he goes through there," pointing to Nimbus,
"and picks out the ripe, yellow-looking plants. Then he sets his
knife in at the top of the stalk where it has been broken off to
prevent its running up to seed, and splits it down almost to the
ground; then he cuts the stalk off below the split, and it is ready
to be hung on the thin narrow strips of oak, which you see stuck
up here and there, where the cutting has been done. They generally
put from seven to ten plants on a stick, according to the size
of the plants; so that the number of sticks makes a very accurate
measure of the size of the crop, and an experienced hand can tell
within a few pounds the weight of any bulk of tobacco by simply
counting the sticks."
They rode up to the barn and found it already half full of tobacco.
Nimbus came and showed the officer how the sticks were laid upon
beams placed at proper intervals, the split plants hanging tops
downward, close together, but not touching each other.
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