Let us have facts.
How many?
What! a dozen already?
Yes--and here is another, and another.

Why, I have got I don't know how many.
Why not?
Bring them here, and let us see.

Nine kinds of grasses, and a rush.

Six kinds of clovers and vetches; and besides, dandelion, and rattle, and oxeye, and sorrel, and plantain, and buttercup, and a little stitchwort, and pignut, and mouse-ear hawkweed, too, which nobody wants.
Why?
Because they are a sign that I am not a good farmer enough, and have not quite turned my Wild into Field.
What do you mean?
Look outside the boundary fence, at the moors and woods; they are forest, Wild--"Wald," as the Germans would call it.

Inside the fence is Field--"Feld," as the Germans would call it.