Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
So far I've been intermittently a rotten ploughman, a fair fence-mender and a skillful whitewasher. My amazing facility there I attribute to an apprenticeship in sunsets. Once, during a period of rain, I lived in a corncrib for three days at an average of seven cents a day. I've reduced my need of kitchen equipment to a can-opener.
"As a parent. Even my penance on the road was was like the rest." "Your penance!" "I bought a corncrib and a mule," flung out Kenny, roaming turbulently around the room, "and thrashed a farmer. And I hated the rain and the smell of cheese and burned up the corn-crib " "Kenny, what are you talking about?"
To Kenny's disgusted glance he was like the Irish Grogach of folk lore, who tumbles around among the hills with a good deal of head and a lax body without much hint of bones. Well, Brian had thrashed somebody too. There were times when it couldn't be helped. And Brian had lived in a corncrib at seven cents a day. Kenny whipped out his notebook. "One day in a corncrib:" he wrote grimly.
He awoke at an undesirable hour, convinced that another farmer was getting up. The world was a mournful gray. At the end of the corncrib a head was peering in. Kenny turned his searchlight on it and had a moment of doubt. The man was facially endowed for anything but virtue. He was likely getting in not up. "Hum!" said Kenny suspiciously. "Are you coming in, my good friend, or are you going out?"
His keen nose led him to burs that Johnnie Green had trampled over that very morning, and missed. "I wonder " said Grunty Pig aloud "I wonder why nobody ever told me about this beech tree." "Perhaps it was because you are a pig," said a voice right over his head. He looked up. And there on a low branch sat Frisky Squirrel. Grunty knew him; he had sometimes seen him around Farmer Green's corncrib.
He begged some vaseline from his mother and rubbed it on the sore neck. Then he got two or three empty gunnysacks out of the corncrib, crawled under the house to a warm place beside the chimney, and spread them out for a bed. He went into the house whistling; he didn't hear a word of the chapter his mother read out of the Bible. Before he went to bed in the shed-room he raised the window.
Then, not to oblige Fatty, but to show him he was mistaken, Grumpy climbed a tree near-by, dropped from one of its branches to the roof of the corncrib, and quickly found a crack in the side of the building through which he slipped with no trouble at all. Suddenly there was a great scurrying and scrambling inside.
Though he was a great eater Fatty was also a fast one. And now he bolted a huge meal of corn in only a few minutes. Then, smiling broadly, he left the corncrib by his private doorway and squatted down to await Grumpy's return. In a little while Grumpy appeared. "I hoped I'd see you again," Fatty Coon told him. "Did you have any luck?" "No!" Grumpy Weasel snapped. "I was mistaken about your idea.
Then he would warn the culprit that the next time he was caught lugging off a billboard or a wooden platform or a corncrib he would be compelled to put it back again before he got breakfast; after which he would tell him to go along and try studying for a change, and the Freshman would go back to college and join the hero brigade.
And Tom kept the corncrib locked, so Laddie and Russ could not get into it again. "But it was lots of fun seeing the yellow buttons drop out the spout," said Russ. "And I could almost make up a riddle about it," added Laddie. "I don't want any riddles about my doll," objected Rose. "She's too nice.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking