An American journal thus drops into poetic prose:—The boy stood on the back yard fence whence all but him had lied, the flames that lit his father’s barn shone just above the shed. One bunch of crackers in his hand, two others in his hat, with piteous accents loud he cried, “ I never thought of that!” A bunch of crackers to the tail of one small dog ho tied ; the dog in anguish sought the barn, and 'mid its ruins died. The
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Bibliographic details
Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2289, 3 August 1881, Page 4
Word Count
82Page 4 Advertisements Column 1 Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2289, 3 August 1881, Page 4
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