I have one of those, keith. I never knew the name for it, Stillard, we always just called them "cotton scales". They are extremely accurate.

When I was a kid growing up here on the farm Grandaddy would take me to the cotton field late in the afternoon for "weighing up". Many of you probably remember the scene, but I will describe it briefly, as it is etched indelibly in my mind. All along the ends of the rows on the edge of a cotton field, the "turnrows", would be big burlap sheets spread out on the ground and piled high with freshly picked cotton. Each hand would have several sheets for the cotton they had picked during the day. Then, the four corners would be pulled up together and tied in two knots.

Grandaddy's scales were not mounted on one of those tripods with one very long leg that acted as a lever, he preferred a sassafras pole about 8 feet long. The scales were tied in the middle of it and two men would lower the pole and scales over a sheet of cotton, Grandaddy would place the hook on the bottom of the scales in the knotted sheet, and the men would lift it off the ground, placing it on their shoulders and standing motionless as Grandaddy balanced the beam with the "pea" weight.

There would be much loud joviality as different hands tried to guess what each sheet held. Grandaddy knew close to what it would be, by experience, and if it was too heavy would have to search the bottom of the sheet for rocks or citrons, which might have been placed there to cheat the scales. That hardly ever occurred, because this was the happiest time of the year for the tenants and hands. They could potentially make more money picking cotton than they could any other job on the farm, all year.

I have the scales, the old sassafras pole, and many of Grandaddy's little pocket notebooks where he recorded the day's weight picked by each hand. They bring back wonderful memories of playing with the hands' children, Grandaddy, and a time when everyone of all colors were more appreciative of what they have, and were willing to work for it. Some of my good friends, even now, are the children and grandchildren of those hands that lived here on our place. Thirteen households of people at one time.

My, how times have changed in the old cotton field. Nowadays one six-row cotton picker can pick more cotton in a day than over 1300 field hands could have done in a day. And when it is ejected from the picker it is wrapped in a waterproof, plastic wrapped roll, holding almost four bales by weight.

Pardon my rambling. I'm getting reminiscent in my autumn years, I guess. SRH

May God bless America and those who defend her.