<="http://honda-vtech.blogspot.com/"> A home for my car thoughts

Mules

The first storyteller rarely has a chance to tell the biggest yarn. Take the case of the Oldtimers discussing the relative merits of mules.
The first man said, "Best mule I ever laid eyes on was a strawberry roan, name of Red. Belonged to a neighbor. When it came to pulling, wasn't a team nowhere that could outpull Red.
Remember a time I was passing the neighbors house and he was out plowing with Red. I listened ta him call out, Giddap Doc. Come on Jenny. Hup there, Blacky. Good job, Red....
When he completed the round I asked him what he was doing, calling out like that, and he says, Well I don't want red to think he was doing all that work by himself.
Another man chuckled. Reminds me of Clyde. Back in those days had me a parcel of troublesome stumps. I hitched Clyde to them and tried to pull them free but with little success. The only thing I could do was blow them up with dynamite. But that took a lot of work because I had to dig down, place the charge , blow it and repeat the process several times before the roots would break loose.
I worked one morning and came in at noon, leaving the dynamite in the wagon. While I was eating Clyde ambled over to the wagon and stuck his nose in the dynamite and ate it. To make a long story short, When I came out of the house I saw Clyde over where he didn't belong and I hollered. This scared him. He jumped came down on a rock his shoes sparked, which ignited the dynamite in his breath. The resulting explosion blew the wagon the smithereens, shoved the house off its foundation 10 feet and singed my beard. Clyde was sick to his stomach for dang there a week.

posted by Mike @ 7:02 PM