Chainsaw Repair

As a kid I spent many hours on one of those, I always chose to catch the sawed off block and throw it on the pile. On a still fall day in the early 1950s you could usually hear one running somewhere, it was  ching!  ching!  ching! when small wood was cut or the long drawn out scream of the blade as it went through a 12" piece of red oak.  Only the old guys know that sound. This was BC.

   John