TO A FRIEND
| Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen men—and the baby hard to find a father for! What will the good Father in Heaven say to the local judge if he do not solve this problem? A little two pointed smile and—pouff!— the law is changed into a mouthful of phrases. |
THE GENTLE MAN
| I feel the caress of my own fingers on my own neck as I place my collar and think pityingly of the kind women I have known. |
THE SOUGHING WIND
| Some leaves hang late, some fall before the first frost—so goes the tale of winter branches and old bones. |