The Grain

Coming over the valley floor an afternoon ago, Bohan Dillon saw him a storm coming over the foothills. Now old Bohan, he knew the millers there in the valley weren’t getting enough wind to grind ‘em some grain. Bein’ in a good mood he saw’s how he could help.

And so he ran at them there foothills where the windmills were. He got close as the storm reckoned to pass on by.

But no, Bohan he blew at the top o’ that storm and blew hard. Well that storm just up and stopped right over them mills. For days! That year the millers milled more bushels of grain than afore or after.

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