"I hate to see them working there in the dirt and hot sun.

It seems a hopeless sort of life, doesn't it ?" "Oh, but this is the most beautiful part of the year," said Radbourn.
"Think of them in the mud, in the sleet; think of them husking corn in the snow, a bitter wind blowing; think of them a month later in the harvest; think of them imprisoned here in winter!" "Yes, it's dreadful! But I never felt it so keenly before.

You have opened my eyes to it.

Of course, I've been on a farm, but not to live there." "Writers and orators have lied so long about 'the idyllic' in farm life, and said so much about the 'independent American farmer,' that he himself has remained blind to the fact that he's one of the hardest-working and poorest-paid men in America.

See the houses they live in--hovels." "Yes, yes, I know," said Lily; a look of deeper pain swept over her face.