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To: Tom who wrote (1403)	3/15/1998 12:50:00 AM
From: Tom	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2951

snuffle-snuffle Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, Through the Jungle very softly flits a shadow and a sigh-- He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear! Very softly down the glade runs a waiting, watching shade, And the whisper spreads and widens far and near. And the sweat is on thy brow, for he passes even now-- He is Fear, O Little Hunter, he is Fear! Ere the moon has climbed the mountain, ere the rocks are ribbed with light, When the downward-dipping trails are dank and drear, Comes a breathing hard behind thee--snuffle-snuffle through the night-- It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear, On thy knees and draw the bow; bid the shrilling arrow go; In the empty, mocking thicket plunge the spear! But thy hands are loosed and weak, and the blood has left thy cheek-- It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear! When the heat-cloud sucks the tempest, when the slivered pine-trees fall, When the blinding, blaring rain-squalls lash and veer, Through the war-gongs of the thunder rings a voice more loud than all-- It is Fear, O Little Hunter, it is Fear! Now the spates are banked and deep; now the footless boulders leap-- Now the lightning shows each littlest leaf--rib clear-- But thy throat is shut and dried, and thy heart against thy side Hammers: Fear, O Little Hunter--this is Fear!

To: Tom who wrote (1403)	3/15/1998 1:22:00 AM
From: Stitch	Respond to of 2951

Thanks Tom, It's a noble thing to aspire to imo. Best, Stitch

To: Tom who wrote (1403)	3/16/1998 10:38:00 AM
From: Sam	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2951

Tom, "The test of a first-rate intelligence is the ability to hold two opposed ideas in mind at the same time and still retain the ability to function. One should, for example, be able to see that things are hopeless and yet be determined to make them otherwise." -- F. Scott Fitzgerald Unhappily, Fitzgerald could only barely "retain the ability to function." He finally resorted to drink and despair. I knew someone who was a bellhop in a hotel that he lived in for a few years in Baltimore toward the end of his life. He was frequently drunk by noon. A very sweet man, I was told, always wanted the best for everyone.