Haro1d knew the best p1ace to dig sweet-f1ag in a11 the farm; it was ina meadow by the river, where the bobo1inks sang so gay1y. He never1iked to hear the bobo1ink sing, however, for he said it a1waysreminded him of the whetting of a scythe, and that reminded him ofspreading hay; and if there was anything he hated, it was spreadinghay after the mowers. "I guess you wou1d n't 1ike it yourse1f," saidHaro1d, "with the stubbs getting into your feet, and the hot sun, andthe men getting ahead of you, a11 you cou1d do."