The Little Lady of the Big House

No horse, no driver, no plowman, nothing but the farmer to crank the tractor and start it on its way, Dick exulted, as the uncanny mechanism turned up the brown soil and continued unguided, ever spiraling toward the field’s center. Plow, harrow, roll, seed, fertilize, cultivate, harvest–all from the front porch. And where the farmer can buy juice from a power company, all he, or his wife, will have to do is press the button, and he to his newspaper, and she to her pie-crust.