10/25/2024
Amish Repartee
Yesterday, on my way to town I stopped by Elam Fisher's farm to explain about some books I was lending him. I saw him working at one of his barns and headed up.
There, along with Elam there was another Amish man whom I didn't recognize. He said, "Hi, Frank," (Elam must have told him my name.) and I said "Hi, ... ) which pause he filled in with "Henry".
I asked if he was related to Elam, and he replied that he was his brother.
Knowing that Elam has 10 siblings that live about 100 miles away, I said, "Then one of eight (guessing high). How did you get down here from Loganton? "(The Amish don't have their own cars.).
Then Henry explained that he was not Elam's blood brother.
"We're all brothers," explained Elam, trying to make an excuse for Henry's earlier comment.
We had our book talk, and then Henry asked me if I could work hard. I hesitated, then said, "Yes, do you need help with something heavy?"
"No, not really, well..."
"Frank is on his way to town and has work of his own to do," said Elam.
Well, I learned that Henry lives on his dad's newly bought farm here in Dutch Corner and that he had arrived in his buggy.
"Want a ride?" he asked.
"Sometime, sure, but not now, thanks."
And so the little conversation ended.
What struck me about it was the, what I call the "bu****itting" nature of it -- so like some of the carpenters I worked with in New England.