– 9 –

Where Hans is puttering in his workroom. Where Hans the smith, who had hammered down the world into sense and shape, is an old man, a weak man, now — though still strong enough to keep Hell sealed up, to keep the cows plugged in, to whisk the ducks, and to keep two great emus taped up above him on the wall.

His kettle is boiling now. His metal chimney is rattling now. His emus are rolling their eyes.

Down that chimney a pair of scissors strikes. It bounces out and it cuts the tape.

And Hans looks up and he sees his death.

Like an anvil, an emu falls.

<< . . .

– 10 – >>