Peace to the artist whose ingenious thought / Devised the weather house, that useful toy!

Dan and I loved to sit on our little backyard deck after sundown. We caught fruitsicle drips with our tongues and nudged away mosquitoes as we watched the show: a coliseum of fireflies blinking green, blue, and orange.

He started to supplement them by smuggling dagga, and soon found it so profitable that he left the factory altogether.

So he moseyed over by the tracks to light up and loiter in the darker shadows of the water tower as a million years went by and then at last he spied the headlamp of a powersome Baldwin 4-6-2 puffing, thirsty, up from the southwest.