Excerpt from An Old Story of My Farming Days, Vol. 1 of 3: Ut Mine Stromtid
Well, well, it was not always so. - The father of the man who now rides to town with white reins for his horse, and who drinks his couple of bottles of cham pagne, had probably nothing better than small beer with which to quench his thirst, and had his reins tied together with his wife's garter. Ah, those were hard times in Mecldenburg when wheat was sold in barrels on the public road for sixteen pence a bushel, good measure too, to the labourers to feed their pigs with, and when, as in Rostock, a whole load Of oats was given in exchange for a loaf of sugar.
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