The stimulating substances being no longer applied, as they could not afford to buy them, the land fell back and appeared poor.
Farmer M---, of course, grumbled at the weather, but the crops belied his lips.

He was, in fact, wealthy--not the wealth that is seen in cities, but rich for a countryman.

He could have started both his sons in business with solid capital.

Yet he drank small beer which the reapers despised, and drove about in a rusty old gig, with thousands to his credit at that old country bank.

When he got home that afternoon, he carefully put away some bags of coin for the wages of the men, which he had been to fetch, and at once started out for the rickyard, to see how things were progressing.