| http://www.w3.org/ns/prov#value | - ough an acre in a day But he would walk eleven miles and say When winter's o'er it is harrowing time Break the clods down nice and fine Make a bed for the seed to grow And a mawkin stands to scare the crow There is a boy who walks around the field Turn the rattle, increase the yield If we catch him sleeping through the day Twist his lug and dock his pay Now the corn is ripe for the harvest mow Round wit
|
