"Of course, I wish you success, but that consummation appears distinctly doubtful." Winston laughed as he pointed to a great machine which, hauled by four horses, rolled towards them, scattering the black clods in its wake.
"I'm doing what I can to achieve it, sir," he said.

"In fact, I'm staking somewhat heavily.

That team with the gang plows and cultivators cost me more dollars than I care to remember." "No doubt," said Barrington dryly.

"Still, we have always considered oxen good enough for breaking prairie at Silverdale." Winston nodded.

"I used to do so, sir, when I could get nothing better, but after driving oxen for eight years one finds out their disadvantages." Barrington's face grew a trifle stern.