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Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 1809-1894

"The Poet at the Breakfast-Table"


They could n't have any lungs, nor any hearts. What a pity! Did they
ever die? How could they expire if they didn't breathe? Burn up? No
air to burn in. Tumble into some of those horrid pits, perhaps, and
break all to bits. She wondered how the young people there liked it, or
whether there were any young people there; perhaps nobody was young and
nobody was old, but they were like mummies all of them--what an idea
--two mummies making love to each other! So she went on in a rattling,
giddy kind of way, for she was excited by the strange scene in which she
found herself, and quite astonished the Young Astronomer with her
vivacity. All at once she turned to him.
Will you show me the double star you said I should see?
With the greatest pleasure,--he said, and proceeded to wheel the
ponderous dome, and then to adjust the instrument, I think to the one in
Andromeda, or that in Cygnus, but I should not know one of them from the
other.
How beautiful!--she said as she looked at the wonderful object.---One is
orange red and one is emerald green.
The young man made an explanation in which he said something about
complementary colors.
Goodness!--exclaimed the Landlady.---What! complimentary to our party?
Her wits must have been a good deal confused by the strange sights of the
evening.


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