Made for Fleming and Company Ltd. in Gore. Shows all stages of cereal production: harvesting the oats, storing them, sorting them, milling them, toasting them and finally, packaging them as ‘Creamoata’ and ‘Milk Oaties’.
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Sample Text:
For man’s a servant of this fertile earth
Unceasingly he labours on
With naught save faith
That in due season
Good success is his reward
With which this labour’s fraught
The golden sun and rich refreshing dew
With magic touch
Transforms a barren land
The earth in turn
Is servant to the man
The harvest gift
Is from the Almighty’s hand
Modern methods and machinery
Have done much to assist the farmer
In his many arduous duties
This machine not only reaps the crop
But also thrashes and delivers the grain
Into sacks
Now take a peak at the other side of the machine
The husks and chaff are been thrown out from the back
And the clean grain is filling the sacks
They are then sown and tipped off
Ready for carting away
A glimpse of Gore
A flourishing town
In the rich agricultural district of Southland
This picture is taken from the top
Of the Gore Cereal Mill
The surrounding country
Is famed for the quality of its oats
And thousands of tons of this valuable grain
Are grown on the land every year
The Gore Mill, the largest of its kind
In the Southern Hemisphere
Wherein the oats undergo
A lengthy and thorough treatment
In order to satisfy
Many a healthy New Zealand appetite
Upon arrival at the mill
The oats are tipped down a chute
With the automatic elevators
Which take them to the floor above
This is the start of their long journey
To the breakfast table
[...]
Nothing escapes this machine
As the oats jazz their way
Over the various sieves
Or screens
The bad is soon separated from the good
And it is easy to see which sample
Will make the best breakfast food
[...]
This is where the agony starts
And the poor little fellows
Have their ends clipped
By the clipping machine
This is done to clean the oats
And even up the size
Then after further cleaning
They go to the toasting ovens
[...]
After being all hot and bothered
It is only fair
That we should allow their temper to cool
And the oats are put into tempering bins
Where they remain for a considerable period
Even oats have their days of vanity
And we see them visiting the beauty parlour
To have their faces lifted
The travel down the pipes
Into the shellers
Which take off the husks
Now out of the sheller
And on with the journey
The oat is now a groat
And a groat is an oat
Without an overcoat