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Life as a potato digger is tough. For starters, I had to get up with the chickens. After a hearty breakfast, Mom handed me a lunch pail that usually contained a leftover biscuit and a piece of bacon from breakfast, and I walked what seemed an endless two-mile trek to the potato garden. I remembered reading a book about Abraham Lincoln that said he once walked 20 miles to borrow a book. I decided I shouldn’t complain, but be thankful I didn’t have 18 miles to go. Also, I was thankful it was late July and school was out for summer.
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