WDYK: A Band of Old Geezers and a Noiseless Whiffletree

Recently I received a story idea from a regular reader of this column. He suggested I visit the Canterbury Country Store some Saturday morning and witness an unusual ritual by a rare species recently out of hibernation.         

The store, on the town common, also houses the local post office and is especially busy on warm Saturday mornings. Locals stop at the combination post office/store to get their mail, coffee, donuts, news and gossip while enroute to the dump with their weekly contribution. 

Like any good small town store/post office there is a sheltered entrance porch with a wooden bench which invites visitors to, “Set Thee Down.”   

With the cold rainy weather behind us and the arrival of sunny days, a band of old geezers have taken up residence on this bench most Saturday mornings. One of the mysteries of nature is that geezers are born old; there is no such thing as a young geezer. Whereas cows congregate in a herd, whales in a pod and birds in a flock, geezers run in a band. 

This particular band of geezers is more organized than most and arrived this summer bearing musical noisemakers. Celebrating their arrival, someone hung a sign on the porch to promote their presence before winter drives them back into hibernation.

When I cross the porch to enter the store, I’m greeted by the affectionate cackling calls from the band of geezers. Frank Tupper is playing some kind of wind-powered squeaky keyboard instrument, and he alternates between blowing into the mouthpiece, shaking a pair of maracas, and good-naturedly harassing me. 

He inquires if I’m out on parole again. When I ask him what he is doing, he tells me the CIA is looking for him regarding his gun-running days in Cuba, so he is hiding out in plain sight. I ask him about the geezers sign behind his head and feigns innocence. “What sign?”

Dudley Laufman is seated beside him playing a concertina mini accordion. Dudley has the ability to compartmentalize and multitask and is playing a lively jig with his hands while also challenging me for my opinion in an ongoing debate. He inquires whether dairy cows in a stanchion barn should face in or face out. Facing in provides for easier feeding. Facing out provides for easier milking and cleanup. 

I tell him I support facing out because you spend twice as much time at the cow’s tail end than you do at the front. Satisfied, he tells me he is counting black pickup trucks this morning and is up to 37 so far. All of this back-and-forth banter he does without missing a musical note.

Stephanie Jackson is seated next to Dudley and sort of playing some cymbals. When I ask her how she came to be a part of this notorious band of geezers, she tells me she was walking her dogs, got tired and sat down to rest for just a minute. Buster and Max are curled up at her feet and greet me, looking for treats.

On the opposite end of the porch is a young lady playing “Marching Through Georgia” on a fiddle. I ask her if she is part of this old geezer band and Frank answers for her. “She is an apprentice old geezer in training. If she keeps up the good work, she might become an old geezer in about 50 years.” 

I ask her if she can play, “Garryowen” which was the marching tune for General Custer’s cavalry. She breaks into it effortlessly, and while it sounds good to me, Dudley tells her she didn’t “hang the last note.” She tells him she prefers hanging the next to the last note, and he can play it his way, and she will play it hers. Porch-sitting old geezers are feisty… 

The mystery of the “noiseless whiffletree”

A non-noiseless whiffletree can be partially seen in this photo connecting the leather straps behind the horse to the wooden draw-bar on the mowing machine. Photo Courtesy/ Art Pease

The question sent in by a reader was, “Does this make any sense to you?” and involves an old patent for a “noiseless whiffletree.” The reader included the patent details and a promotional flier advertising this new invention. The 1897 patent details are expertly drawn with cross-sections and cutaway views with hidden lines, but no one can figure out what this noiseless whiffletree thing really does.  

The promotional flier indicates Mr. J.B. Sargent of West Lebanon is the inventor and sole manufacturer of the gizmo. Sargent advertises to, “Carriage Dealers, Blacksmiths, Liverymen and Jobbers” that for only 50 cents, they can obtain one of his new noiseless whiffletrees.  

The toes of Marshall Hudson’s boots give scale to the size of a whiffletree lying on a barn floor. Photo by Marshall Hudson

A whiffletree is an old farming implement used to connect a horse to a plow, mowing machine or wagon. Historically whiffletrees are made from hardwood and have hooks or eyebolts on each end that link leather straps or chains back to the horse’s collar or harness. The center of the whiffletree typically has an iron ring that connects to the drawbar pin on whatever farm implement is to be pulled by the horse. Whiffletrees provide a pivot point for turning and also distribute the force evenly so that multiple animals pull equally when hitched together.   

To figure out what a “noiseless” whiffletree is, you first must distinguish it from a conventional whiffletree. I have a couple hanging on the wall in my barn. When I took one down, it didn’t make any noise. Much like a stick or a rock, a whiffletree does not make any noise unless it strikes something. A closer look at the patent details suggests that what was really invented is a spring-loaded bolt with a locking nut that prevents bolts in the whiffletree from loosening and rattling. The noise of a rattling bolt seems insignificant considering all of the other noises that come with driving a team of horses.  

I’m guessing Mr. J.B. Sargent of West Lebanon, NH, likely did not manufacture or sell many noiseless whiffletrees. But I’m glad his invention piqued the interest of a curious reader who sent in the puzzling question and story idea…