Oh come on Mills. Mules for sure, the four legged type not Kawasaki. Nothing beats the quiet pace of a team; creaking leather harness, the plod of hooves, an occasional snort, and perhaps a fart or two. I know, I had a molly mule that tooted with every step it seemed. Sweet music compared to that of a four stroke engine. You can even hear the dog bells while under way. Besides, those old Parkers might thank you for taking them back to a time where they belong.
|