If you were to buy another farm and bring it here and put it down on top o' this one, you could probably make a living.

I wouldn't like to live where the wind could dig my potatoes." Again the stranger leaned toward Samson and said in a half-whisper: "Say, mister, I wouldn't want you to mention it, but talkin' o' fleas, I'm like a dog with so many of 'em that he don't have time to eat.

Somebody has got to soap him or he'll die.

You see, I traded my farm over in Vermont for five hundred acres o' this sheet lightnin', unsight an' unseen.

We was all crazy to go West an' here we are.