Mark Twain,
Alonzo Fitz, and Other Stories
“ Waw-he!—waw-he!—waw-he!” “That, oh, that song is sweeter, a thousand times sweeter than the voice of the nightingale, thrush, or linnet, for it brings not mere hope, but certainty of succor; and now, indeed, am I saved! The sacred singer has chosen itself, as the oracle intended; the prophecy is fulfilled, and my life, my house, and my people are redeemed. The ass shall be sacred from this day!” The divine music grew nearer and nearer, stronger—and stronger and ever sweeter and sweeter to the perishing sufferer's ear. ”
