词汇:farming

n. 农业,耕作

相关场景

Yes, I did in fact survive on a deserted planet by farming in my own sh*t.
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“You don’t blabber, but I believe you’ve got it in you to learn,” she said. “I’m going to do some farming.” “What do I owe you for the grub?” Roscoe asked.
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“Well, I don’t take back nothing I said,” Louisa declared. “You men are a worthless race. You’re good for a bounce now and then, and that’s about it. I doubt you’d make much of a fanner.” For some reason Roscoe felt melancholy. For all her loud talk, Louisa didn’t seem to be as disagreeable to him as he had first thought her to be. It seemed to him she might be persuaded to tone down her farming, maybe even move into a town and settle for putting in a big garden, if it was presented to her right. But he couldn’t, because there was the problem of July, who had given him a job and been good to him. The point was, he owed July. Even if he never found him, he had to make the effort, or know that he had failed a friend. Had it not been for that obligation he would have stayed a“It ain’t that I ain’t obliged,” he said. “I’m obliged. The dern thing about it is July. Even if Elmira ain’t coming back, he’s got to be told. It’s my dern job, too. July’s the only friend I got in that town except Joe. Joe’s Elmira’s boy.” Then a happy thought occurred to him. Maybe July had made a slow start. He might not be too far ahead. Perhaps his jaundice had come back on him, in which case he might have had to hole up for a few days. If he himself was lucky he might strike July in a week or two and break the news. Once that was done, his obligation would be satisfied and there would be nothing to keep him from coming back for another visit with Louisa—provided he could find the farm a second time.
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“Roscoe, you’ve went to waste long enough,” she said. “Let’s give it a tryout.” “Well, I wouldn’t know how to try,” Roscoe said. “I’ve been a bachelor all my life.” Louisa straightened up. “Men are about as worthless a race of people as I’ve ever encountered,” she said. “Look at the situation a minute. You’re running off to catch a sheriff you probably can’t find, who’s in the most dangerous state in the union, and if you do find him he’ll just go off and try to find a wife that don’t want to live with him anyway. You’ll probably get scalped before it’s all over, or hung, or a Mexican will get you with a pigsticker. And it’ll all be to try and mend something that won’t mend anyway. Now I own a section of land here and I’m a healthy woman. I’m willing to take you, although you’ve got no experience either at farming or matrimony. You’d be useful to me, whereas you won’t be a bit of use to that sheriff or that town you work for either. I’ll teach you how to handle an ax and a mule team, and guarantee you all the corn bread you can eat. We might even have some peas to go with it later in the year. I can cook peas. Plus I’ve got one of the few feather mattresses in this part of the country, so it’d be easy sleeping. And now you’re scared to try. If that ain’t cowardice, I don’t know what is.” Roscoe had never expected to hear such a speech, and he had no idea how to reply to it. Louisa’s approach to marriage didn’t seem to resemble any that he had observed, though it was true he had not spent much time studying the approaches to matrimony. Still, he had only ridden into Louisa’s field an hour before sundown, and it was not yet much more than an hour after dark. Her proposal seemed hasty to him by any standards.
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“I’d leave ’em out but they’d run off,” she said. “They don’t like farming as much as I do. I guess we’ll have corn bread for supper. It’s about all I eat.” “Why not bacon?” Roscoe asked. He was quite hungry and would have appreciated a good hunk of bacon or a chop of some kind. Several chickens were scratching around the cabin—any one of them would have made good eating but he didn’t feel he ought to mention it, since he was the guest.
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“No,” Roscoe admitted. “I generally eat at the saloon or else go home with July.” “I can’t neither,” Louisa said. “Never interested me. What I like is farming. I’d farm day and night if it didn’t take so much coal oil.” That seemed curious. Roscoe had never heard of a woman farmer, though plenty of black women picked cotton during the season. They came to a good-sized clearing without a stump in it. There was a large cabin and a rail corral. Louisa unharnessed the mules and put them in the pen.
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With the help of hundreds of passionate workers and volunteers, they've succeeded in protecting entire ecosystems and fostering sustainable farming and ranching programs.
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Just forget the seven generations of people who have devoted their entire lives to farming this land.
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41.The annual worth of Utah’s manufacturing is greater than that of its mining and farming combined。
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This isn't farming.
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