When I was growing up, in the 1980s, there lived on the edge of the village a character we knew as ‘Farmer Jenkins’, although actually he had a modest smallholding rather than a farm.
Mr Jenkins and his wife kept two or three pigs, some chickens and had a modest little orchard of apple and plum trees. The latter, as you might expect, were something of a ‘scrumping’ target for local children – especially the plums.