A fellow stopped at a rural gas station and, after filling his tank, he
paid the bill and bought a soft drink. As he stood by his car to drink his
cola, he watched a couple of men working along the roadside.
One man
would dig a hole two or three feet deep and then move on. The other man came
along behind and filled in the hole.
While one was digging a new hole,
the other was about 25 feet behind filling in the old. The men worked right
past the fellow with the soft drink and went on down the road.
"I
can't stand this," said the man, tossing the can in a trash container and
heading down the road toward the men.
"Hold it, hold it," he said to
the men. "Can you tell me what's going on here with this
digging?"
"Well, we work for the county," one of the men
said.
"But one of you is digging a hole and the other fills it up.
You're not accomplishing anything. Aren't you wasting the county's
money?"
"You don't understand, mister," one of the men said, leaning
on his shovel and wiping his brow. "Normally there's three of us... me,
Rodney and Mike. I dig the hole, Rodney sticks in the tree and Mike here puts
the dirt back. Now just because Rodney's sick, that don't mean that Mike and
me can't work."
[Mother Shiptons Prophecy] [Poetry]
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