BENEATH the good Canadian soil, that rich earth with its flourishing crops, its vineyards and its market gardens, there toils unseen and unacclaimed a farmer who has never hitched on overalls or ridden a tractor—the earthworm. He doesn’t ask for a share in the glory of the West, nor is the deaf, blind creature aware of his essential part in the scheme of things.By A. C. ANDERSON12 min
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