"Will he plough it?"

"It's been ploughed twice, so he's undertaken to harrow it and scarify
it--doesn't it sound awful?--and then something else is going to
happen to it, but I forget what it's called."

"Wouldn't it be a good thing, at some stage or other, to plant the
peas?"

"Yes, it would; but you can't do it as simply as all that, can you?
Isn't there something highly agricultural that you must do first?"

"I should chuck 'em in and chance it."

"A nice farmer you'd make," she said scornfully. "I'm remembering it
now. It's got something to do with drills."

"Like the Volunteers?"

"No, not a bit like the Volunteers."

"Well, then, like potatoes."

"Yes, more like potatoes, except that they're peas in this case."

"How true," I said.

"Yes. And don't forget that while you were away we formed a League
of Honour in the village and bound ourselves to observe the FOOD
CONTROLLER'S rations."