One More Fagot Of These

Four Snakes Gliding Up And Down A Hollow For No Purpose That I Could See - Not To Eat, Not For Love, But Only Gliding.

We Boil At Different Degrees.

The Sun Shines And Warms And Lights Us And We Have No Curiosity To Know Why This Is So; But We Ask The Reason Of All Evil, Of Pain, And Hunger, And Mosquitoes And Silly People.

Keep Cool: It Will Be All One A Hundred Years Hence.

Difficulties Exist To Be Surmounted.