held the end while the new pump was sweated

held the end while the new pump was sweated on. By now, the snowflakes were blowing across the hillside under a menacing sky, and that long black snake in the grass was now flecked with white spots. We put the whole lot down the well again: - pump, pipe, cables, and spiders - and shut tight the cap on the top.

I never expected to have to work so hard on a repair job. That pump was heavy, and dangling on the end of the long length of pipe, it was touch or go whether I was going to be able to hang on to it, let alone pull it out.

Because each submersible pump has a pressure valve, it does not allow the water to drain out at the bottom, so the whole pipe was filled with water while we pulled. For artesian wells deeper than 100 feet, it usually takes two hefty men to pull the pump, or a special winch and lifting rig, so I was told. I hoped I would never have to open up the wellhead again. Properly mounted, that new pump surely would do its job down in the granite for many years to come.

Back inside the farmhouse, we threw the switch, and, after some bumping and gurgling, the pressure tank filled, and we had our w'ater supply again. The expert sat at the kitchen table and figured out w'hat he would charge. I looked over the bill, and it was all correct, right down to the 60 cents for the four spiders. But I didn’t see any charge for the labor.

“Can’t charge you for the labor,” the expert said, “you did most of the pulling yourself.”

He collected his things and drove off. As the orange caravan disappeared over the hill complete with buckets and ropes, I thought about what had just happened. I might not be a well expert like he w7as, but for once in my life, I had been an expert’s mate.

Dr. Gerald Hawkins lives outside Woodville. An internationallyacclaimed author and astronomer, his books include “Stonehenge Decoded" and “Beyond Stonehenge.