Tales of the jazz age | ||
"As One."
When the Doldrums burst through the ring of flame,
they found them dead where they had fallen, their
arms about each other.
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Old Jem Doldrum was moved.
He took off his hat.
He filled it with whiskey and drank it off.
"They air dead," he said slowly, "they hankered
after each other. The fit is over now. We must not
part them."
So they threw together into the stream and the
two splashes they made were as one.
Tales of the jazz age | ||