A specimen of everything, I said. She has one witch—old style.[3] She lives in Colebrook. (The only other witch I ever met Was lately at a cut-glass dinner in Boston. There were four candles and four people present. The witch was young, and beautiful (new style), And open-minded. She was free to question Her gift for reading letters locked in boxes. Why was it so much greater when the boxes Were metal than it was when they were wooden? It made the world seem so mysterious. The S’ciety for Psychical Research Was cognizant. Her husband was worth millions. I think he owned some shares in Harvard College.) New Hampshire _used_ to have at Salem A company we called the White Corpuscles, Whose duty was at any hour of night To rush in sheets and fool’s caps where they smelled A thing the least bit doubtfully perscented And give someone the Skipper Ireson’s Ride. One each of everything as in a show-case. More than enough land for a specimen You’ll say she has, but there there enters in Something else to protect her from herself. There quality[4] makes up for quantity. Not even New Hampshire farms are much for sale. The farm I made my home on in the mountains I had to take by force rather than buy. I caught the owner outdoors by himself Raking up after winter, and I said, “I’m going to put you off this farm: I want it.” “Where are you going to put me? In the road?” “I’m going to put you on the farm next to it.” “Why won’t the farm next to it do for you?” “I like this better.” It was really better. Apples? New Hampshire has them, but unsprayed, With no suspicion in stem-end or blossom-end Of vitriol or arsenate of lead, And so not good for anything but cider. Her unpruned grapes are flung like lariats Far up the birches out of reach of man.[5] A state producing precious metals, stones, And—writing; none of these except perhaps The precious literature in quantity Or quality to worry the producer About disposing of it. Do you know, Considering the market, there are more Poems produced than any other thing?[6] No wonder poets sometimes have to _seem_ So much more business-like than business men. Their wares are so much harder to get rid of.