There’s still room for romance in farming

“You are a most awful fool,” I said to the brother-in-law last Friday night. He is only after going and getting himself engaged to a woman, if you don’t mind.

“Good God, man,” says I clutching the pint that he had bought for me, “While I thank you sincerely for inviting me here tonight to celebrate the event, heavens above, I have to say you have no more sense than the crows.”

“The greatest farmers on the land,” I explained, “are the ones who have avoided the whole business of engagements and all that class of thing. And here you are tonight like Barry White himself, all loved up.