Margery
had thought she could begin to sow the
seed right off.
But this was what was done. Early the
next morning, a man came driving into
the yard, with two strong white horses; in
his wagon was a plough. I suppose you
have seen ploughs, but Margery never had,
and she watched with great interest, while
the man and her father took the plough from
the cart and harnessed the horses to it.
It was a great, three-cornered piece of
sharp steel, with long handles coming up
from it, so that a man could hold it in
place. It looked like this:--
"I brought a two-horse plough because
it's green land," the man said. Margery
wondered what in the world he meant; it
was green grass, of course, but what had
that to do with the kind of plough? "What
does he mean, father?" she whispered,
when she got a chance. "He means that
this land has not been ploughed before, or
not for many years; it will be hard to turn
the soil, and one horse could not pull the
plough," said her father. So Margery had
learned what "green land" was.
The man was for two hours ploughing
the little strip of land. He drove the sharp
end of the plough into the soil, and held it
firmly so, while the horses dragged it along
in a straight line. Margery found it
fascinating to see the long line of dark earth
and green grass come rolling up and turn
over, as the knife passed it.
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