John Muir,
A Thousand-Mile Walk To The Gulf
(1916)
“ At night I was cordially received by a farmer whose wife, though smart and neat in her appearance, was an inveterate smoker. September 22. Hills becoming small, sparsely covered with soil. They are called "knob land" and are cultivated, or scratched, with a kind of one-tooth cultivator. Every rain robs them of their fertility, while the bottoms are of course correspondingly enriched. ”
