"This pa-aper says th' farmer niver sthrikes. He hasn't got th' time to.
He's too happy. A farmer is continted with his ten-acre lot. There's
nawthin' to take his mind off his wurruk. He sleeps at night with his
nose against th' shingled roof iv his little frame home an' dhreams iv
cinch bugs. While th' stars are still alight he walks in his sleep to
wake th' cow that left th' call f'r four o'clock. Thin it's ho! f'r
feedin' th' pigs an' mendin' th' reaper. Th' sun arises as usual in th'
east an' bein' a keen student iv nature, he picks a cabbage leaf to put
in his hat. Breakfast follows, a gay meal beginnin' at nine an' endin'
at nine-three. Thin it's off f'r th' fields where all day he sets on a
bicycle seat an' reaps the bearded grain an' th' Hessian fly, with
nawthin' but his own thoughts an' a couple iv horses to commune with.
An' so he goes an' he's happy th' livelong day if ye don't get in
ear-shot iv him. In winter he is employed keepin' th' cattle fr'm
sufferin' his own fate an' writin' testymonyals iv dyspepsia cures. 'Tis
sthrange I niver heerd a farmer whistle except on Sunday.
"No, sir, ye can't tell me that a good deal iv wurruk is good f'r anny
man. A little wurruk is not bad, a little wurruk f'r th' stomach's sake
an' to make ye sleep sound, a kind of nightcap, d'ye mind.
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