One day in the crunchety cold depths of winter, Mogey and Smush went out to the silo for a sack of flour to make their morning doughnuts. The silo's old iron door squealed in protest as they cranked it open and they hurriedly closed it against the cold. Inside the lanternlight danced upon flour sacks piled taller than a two story building. Smush hefted a sack over his shoulder and turned to leave but then paused, sniffing the air.
"There's a sack missing," he said with certainty, staring up at the mountain of burlap.
"What are you talking about, Smush?" Mogey retorted, hugging himself in the bitter air.
"Don't you play dumb with me, Mogey," Smush said, wagging his finger. "I know your penchant for raw flour. I'll bet a brace of Turkish hens I know where I'll find that missing sack."
And with that Smush marched back to the house and up the stairs to Mogey's room, not even bothering to remove his snowy boots.
"Ah ha!" Smush cried, pulling a half-empty flour sack from beneath Mogey's bed.
"I 'ave no idea how 'at got der," Mogey answered, charging breathlessly into the room and attempting to speak around a huge mouthful of flour.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment