
The vagaries of the weather, the bleakness of the moorland, the tardy charity of the soil and the isolation of many hill farms breed a combination of stern human qualities rarely found outside the covers of serious fiction. Typical of these sturdy dales farmers is the tenant of the solitary farmhouse in Sleddale, Fred Proud. A magnificent figure of a man, almost 17 stone of hard bone and muscle, Fred is a war scarred veteran of the years 1914-1918. His big frame has been riddled with shrapnel, but his dogged Yorkshire determination to face life boldly remains unaffected.
Anon/Green, 1949
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