The farmer and I went shopping every Friday (horse and cart) to a small town at the lowland, the shop had a stable. This place had no café or bars; the farmers congregated in the stable And drank from a bottle. The farmer in an expansive mood gave pennies to buy ice-cream It was not much of an ice- cream; I walked around looked into shop windows Selling things, I would not dream of buying. When I came back the cart has fully loaded the staff in the shop had Seen to this, outside the town the farmer fell asleep I took the rain. When we came to the steep hill, the horse stopped I had to get off and help push. On the home stretch, the farmer woke up, took the rain chewed tobacco And looked sober as a priest a Sunday morning.