No, I say to this. What does it come to? She had will enough, And aspiration, struck out for herself, Learned for herself, did service in the war, As many did, and died--all very good. But not so good that we could quite afford To take the chances on some other things Which might have come from her. Well, to begin Putting aside an autopsy, she died Because this neural weakness, so derived, Caught in such stress of life proved far too much For one so organized; a stress of life Which others could live through, and have lived through. The world had Elenor Murray, and she died Before she was a cost.--But just suppose No war had been to aureole her life-- And she had lived here and gone mad at last Become a charge upon the state? Or yet, As she was love-mad, by the common word, And as she had neurotic tendencies, Would seek neurotic types therefore, suppose She had with some neurotic made a marriage, And brought upon us types worse than themselves; Given us the symbol double A instead Of big and little a, where are you then? You have some suicides, or murders maybe, Some crimes in sex, some madness on your hands, For which to tax the strong to raise, and raise Some millions every year. Are we so mad For beauty, sacrifice and heroism, So hungry for the stimulus of these That we cannot discern and fairly appraise What Elenor Murray was, what to the world She brought, for which we overlook the harm She might have done the world? Not if we think! And if we think, she will not seem God's flower Made spotted, pale or streaked by cross of breed, A wonder and a richness in the world; But she will seem a blossom which to these Added a novel poison with the power To spread her poison! And we may dispense With what she did and what she tried to do, No longer sentimentalists, to keep The chances growing in the world to bring A better race of men. Then Doctor Burke Left off philosophy and asked: "How many Of you who hear me, know that Elenor Murray Was distant cousin to this necrophile, This Taylor boy, I call him boy, though twenty, Who got the rope for that detested murder Of a young girl--Oh yes, let's save the seed Of stock like this!" But only David Borrow Knew Elenor was cousin to this boy. And Merival spoke up: "What is to-day? It's Thursday, it's to-morrow that he hangs. I'll go now to the jail to see this boy." "He hangs at nine o'clock," said Dr. Burke. And Merival got up to go. The party Broke up, departed. At the jail he saw The wretched creature doomed to die. And turned Half sick from seeing how he tossed and looked With glassy eyes. The sheriff had gone out. And Merival could see him, get the case. Next afternoon they met, the sheriff told This story to the coroner. CHARLES WARREN, THE SHERIFF