Baldwin
wished to keep an eye on Harold’s progress maintaining the town’s roadways as
well as rest his weariness from chasing the ol’ field mice, so he found a
shaded spot in which he could do both.
Soon
the morning’s workday was disrupted:
“Ahh,
ahh, ahh chooo! Ah, ahh choo! Ah choo!” Baldwin covered his ears.
It
was one thing to hear the old, metal monster chugging through the tall grass,
but it was quite another to endure the sound of Harold’s exploding
sneezes.
Harold
pulled out his large, red handkerchief and wiped his watery eyes and runny nose. He removed his yellow, hard hat and mopped his
sweaty brow.
Calling it a day, Harold walked away, leaving Baldwin and the lone monster to smell the
wild, beautiful fragrance of Queen Anne’s lace in peace and quiet while the
field mice continued to laugh and play.
