superstitionhe laid aside too all the witches in the dirt the tracks of horses hoofs deeply dented in the true style of a barrel and then receiving a casual gleam from the crackling wood fire and where of course no spectre dared to show its face it was so vague and faint as only to experienced dutch housewives there was the singing master of defence parried a musketball with a mixture of respect and superstition partly out of sympathy for the purpose of instructing the children of the name of tarry town (C) 2026 Shane Cooper follow links in the poem, or start new path... |