A different voice sounded from the field now, an old man's voice. "Where are they now," the voice asked sadly, "those godly farms, the dear little st… - Robert Stone

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A different voice sounded from the field now, an old man's voice.
"Where are they now," the voice asked sadly, "those godly farms, the dear little streets of homely homes and friendly faces? Ploughed under, I say, or about to be - in this black age of arrogance and agitation, misfits and miscegenation! Friends, a teeming rootless rabble gnaws at the sacred fabric of our way of life. The sun shone less brightly on God's country this morning."