From back at the mill came the sounds of men laughing and joking about how dumb Joe Reese had been. ¶ Their humor disgusted him. Reese had been careless, and it had cost him his life. There wasn’t any call for them to rag on him now.
I imagine it must be pretty discouraging to send out a whole issue of a fanzine and get nothing back but a couple of poctsarcds. I wouldn't know, thank Foo.
Light laughs the breeze / In her Castle above them — / Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear, / Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence — / Ah, what sagacity perished here!
She thereat, as one / That smells a foul-flesh’d agaric in the holt, / And deems it carrion of some woodland thing, / Or shrew, or weasel, nipt her slender nose / With petulant thumb and finger,
