Whenever I hear this, I remember that my father still learned to plough straight lines with one horse. This would be the immediate postwar years. His favourite horse was blind, and he told me more than once how amazed he had been by the trust the horse had put into him, following his lead without the slightest hint of hestitation. A fine rendition by a very young Kate Rusby. No frills, just following the flow of the story. Lovely!
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