Delia, four years old, holds onto Maryellen's feet with a deathgrip, while her brother, Jeffrey, two years older and considerably bigger and stronger, pulls on the doll's head.

I come a booming down on a cut bank with smoky ghosts of big trees on it, and the current throwed me off to the left and shot by, amongst a lot of snags that fairly roared, the current was tearing by them so swift.

A: How's it going? B: It's going.

Myself, not bound by James’ view Nor Walter’s, in a vision saw these two Like trapped and weakening flies In toils of the same hoary net; I seemed to hear ancestral cries Buzzing ‘To our All-Wise, Omnivorous Attercop glowering over us, Whose table we have set With blood and bones and sweat.’