TheMolehadbeenworkinghardallmorning,cleaninghislittleundergroundhome.Heswept,hedusted,andhescrubbeduntilhisbackachedandhisarmsweretired.Springwascallingtohimfromtheworldabove.Suddenly,hethrewhisbrushonthefloorandsaid,“Botherspringcleaning!”Hescrambleduphistunnel,scratchingandscraping,untilhisnosepoppedoutintothewarmsunshine.

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