Samuel Hopkins Adams,
Our Square and the People in It
“ Carlo's hand covered hers as it rested on my shoulder, and we three lifted our faces again to the cage, standing unchanged on the housetop, gaunt and grim and lifeless. As we looked, the sun, striking through the edges of a cloud,—such as angels descend from,—touched the harsh, dull metal to flaming crimson and glowing gold, and made of it a living glory, as love makes a living glory of life. THE LITTLE RED 'DOCTOR OF OUR SQUARE LET me tell the worst of the Little Red Doctor at once and get it over with. He has a hair-trigger temper and a jaw that does not forget or forgive readily. ”
