Mary Copped Typhoid

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I'd seriously be some sort of small-scale farmer if it wasn't so hard to make a living growing organisms that sustain human existence. One, the odds of just growing a successful crop are stacked against you and then, two, you have to hope you guessed which stupid type of vegetable hipsters are going to decide has to be on every menu in the city next or else you're just stuck with a bunch of rutabagas when the market wants breakfast radishes. So, instead of all that, I just buy clothing from Sassafras and walk around a tiny garden and get really excited when I successfully grow three tiny ears of corn. IF I WERE A FARMER, MY FAMILY WOULDN'T EVEN MAKE IT ONTO THE COVERED WAGON, LET ALONE TO THE FIRST RIVER FORDING WHERE MARY COPS TYPHOID.

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