Ah! eager little Asteroid
Thy folly was thy aim!
Oh! ye who stretch forth sturdy hands
To stay Art’s toppling Ark,
Though you have saved the cherubim,
Receive your meed of Dark.
Eugene R. White.
LIFE AND DEATH.
In the bedroom was a cradle; in the adjoining room, dimly lighted and kept cool, was a coffin loaded with flowers. There was the awful presence of life and death.