Here a steam threshing machine was at work, doing prodigious execution on different kinds of grain.
The engine had climbed, a proprii motu, a long ascent; had made its way partly through ploughed land to the rear of the barn, and was rattlingly busy in a fog of dust, doing the labor of a hundred flails.

Ricks of wheat and beans, each as large as a comfortable cottage, disappeared in quick succession through the fingers of the chattering, iron-ribbed giant, and came out in thick and rapid streams of yellow grain.

Swine seemed to be the speciality to which this son of Mr.Webb is giving some of that attention which his father gave to sheep.

There were between 200 and 300 in the barn- yards and pens, of different ages and breeds, all looking in excellent condition.
From Chesterford I went on to Cambridge, where I remained for the most part of two days, on account of a heavy fall of rain, which kept me within doors nearly all the time.

I went out, however, for an hour or so to see a Flower Show in the Town Hall.