Hail, Camerados!
I salute you,
Also I salute the sewing-machine, and the flour-barrel, and the feather
duster.
What is an aborigine, anyhow?
I see a paste-pot.
Ay, and a well of ink.
Well, well!
Which shall I do?
Ah, the immortal fog!
What am I myself
But a meteor
In a fog?