(...)"te gate the station-master's children played and his white chickens walked, whilst the stationmaster himself, a young man getting too fat, helped his wife to peg out the washing on the clothes line in the meadow.
The great boat-shaped wagons came up from Playcross with the hay. At first the farm-men waggoned it. On the third day one of the land-girls appeared with the first load, drawing to a standstill easily at the head of her two great horses. She was a buxom girl, young, in linen overalls and gaiters. Her face was ruddy, she had large blue eyes.
'Now that's the waggoner for us, boys,' said the corporal loudly.
'Whoa!' she said to her horses; and then to the corporal: 'Which boys do you mean?'
'We are the pick of the bunch. That's Joe, my pal. Don't you let on that my (...)".
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