Friday, March 19, 2010
the mole had been working hard all morning, spring-cleaning his little home. first with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; til he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. spring was moving in the air above and below, around even his dark and lowly house, and suddenly he flung down his brush, said "bother!" and "o blow!" and also "hang spring-cleaning!" and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat.
~The Wind in the Willows by kenneth grahame 1908