But speeds at forty miles an hour to town express by rail.
This fine Young Agriculturist, &c.
In former days his dress was baggy sandy-coloured suits,
A great top-coat, with pockets deep, knee-breeches and top-boots,
And all his thoughts were how to grow the finest crops and roots,
And all his talk of ripening corn and rearing Christmas brutes.
Not the fine Young Agriculturist, &c.
But now the modern farmer is a transformation quite—
His coat made small, and cutaway—his trousers fitting tight.
His Balmoralish patent leather button boots are light,