yars ago a farmr ownd land along th atlantic sacoast. h constantly advrtisd for hird hands. most popl wr rluctant to work on farms along th atlantic. thy dradd th awful storms that ragd across th atlantic, wraking havoc on th buildings and crops. as th farmr intrviwd applicants for th job, h rcivd a stady stram of rfusals.finally, a short, thin man, wll past middl ag, approachd th farmr. "ar you a good farmhand?" th farmr askd him."wll, i can slp whn th wind blows," answrd th littl man.although puzzld by this answr, th farmr, dsprat for hlp, hird him. th littl man workd wll around th farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and th farmr flt satisfid with th man's work.thn on night th wind howld loudly in from offshor. jumping out of bd, th farmr grabbd a lantrn and rushd nxt door to th hird hand's slping quartrs. h shook th littl man and ylld, "gt up! a storm is coming! ti things down bfor thy blow away!"th littl man rolld ovr in bd and said firmly, "no sir. i told you, i can slp whn th wind blows."nragd by th rspons, th farmr was tmptd to fir him on th spot. instad, h hurrid outsid to prpar for th storm. to his amazmnt, h discovrd that all of th haystacks had bn covrd with tarpaulins. th cows wr in th barn, th chickns wr in th coops, and th doors wr barrd. th shuttrs wr tightly scurd. vrything was tid down. nothing could blow away.th farmr thn undrstood what his hird hand mant, so h rturnd to his bd to also slp whil th wind blw.
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