“Only one day?”
“I’ve been on the night shift till neow.”
Dwarfs? Ah, yes; dwarfs indeed. But would that those who affirm it might catch sight of the expression that lowered under the brows of those two miniature victims. Like a menace, threatening, terrible, it seemed to presage the storm that shall one day be unchained by the spirits too long pent up in service to the greed of man.
[9] Moffett, Yard & Company.
The Crusade of the Children
By Margaret Belle Houston
(In “The Woman’s Journal.”)
O’er the grind of the wheels of traffic,
Through the strident scream of the mart,
Soundeth a muffled tramping,