Rapid to stay?
"My wife, Mr. Rapid--Eh, what? Why, he's gone--yet he said he would
come.
How rude! I don't wonder, my dear, you are properly crimson and
dumb?"
HE WORRIED ABOUT IT.
BY S. W. FOSS.
"The Sun will give out in ten million years more;
It will sure give out then, if it doesn't before."
And he worried about it;
It would surely give out, so the scientists said
And they proved it in many a book he had read,
And the whole mighty universe then would be dead.
And he worried about it.
"Or some day the earth will fall into the sun,
Just as sure and as straight, as if shot from a gun."
And he worried about it.
"For when gravitation unbuckles her straps,
Just picture," he said, "what a fearful collapse!
It will come in a few million ages, perhaps."
And he worried about it.
"The earth will become far too small for the race,
And we'll pay at a fabulous rate for our space."
And he worried about it.
"The earth will be crowded so much without doubt,
There will hardly be room for one's tongue to stick out,
Nor room for one's thoughts when they'd wander about.
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