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'On my way to and from Thurstons each morning and night (it is a matter of about two miles) I pass a number of small farms. I suppose they average something like sixty acres apiece-two horse farms, as they would once have been called. Just now their owners-or occupiers-are busy harvesting, like everybody else. They are already at it when I go in the morning, and they are still at it when I come back in the evening. It seems as if they never stop.'
C Henry Warren, The Land Is Yours, 1943, page 121
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