Deep in the Well where blushing hides the shrinking
and Naked Truth,
I have dived, and dared to fetch ensnared this Fragment
of tested Sooth;
And one of the purblind Race of Men peered with a curious Eye
Over the Curb as I fetched it forth, and besought me
to drop that Lie:
But all ye who long for Certitude, and who yearn for the
Ultimate Fact,
Who know the Truth and in spite of Ruth tear piecemeal
the Inexact,
Come list to my Lay that I sing to-day, and choose betwixt
him and me,
And choosing show that ye always know the Lie from the Veritee!
-The Rime of the Sheeted Spoorn.
"Baggs," said Mr. Amidon, "take things entirely into your own hands. I'm off."
"All right," said Baggs. "It's only a day's run to Canada; but in case I should prove honest, and need to hear from you, you'll leave your address?"
Mr. Amidon[1] frowned and made a gesture expressive of nervousness.
"No," said he, in a high-pitched and querulous tone. "No! I want to see if this business owns me, or if I own it. Why should you need to communicate with me? Whenever I'm off a day you always sign everything; and I shall be gone but a day on any given date this time; so it's only the usual thing, after all. I shall not leave any address; and don't look for me until I step in at that door! Good-by."
And he walked out of the bank, went home, and began looking over for the last time his cameras, films, tripods and the other paraphernalia of his fad.