Faith, I thought him dead. Not he!
There he lives with ten-fold glee;
And now this moment, with his wings,
I feel him tickling my heart-strings.
THE VINEGAR MAN
By Ruth Comfort Mitchell
The crazy old Vinegar Man is dead! He never had missed a day before!
Somebody went to his tumble-down shed, by the Haunted House, and forced the door.
There in the litter of his pungent pans, the murky mess of his mixing place,—
Deep, sticky spiders and empty cans—with the same old frown on his sour old face.