id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
3026	Frost, Robert	North of Boston			.txt	text/plain	18044	2189	103	In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed. 'He thinks he ought to earn a little pay, To think of the right thing to say too late. Think of it, talk like that at such a time! And see the way you lived, but I don't know! You let things more like feathers regulate But it might be, come night, I shouldn't like it, The hand that knows his business won't be told Shouts like an army captain, 'Let her come!' Never you say a thing like that to a man, Or let him know that he was being looked at. What do you think you're like to hear to-day?" But why take time for what I'm like to hear? "I like your 'going to be.' You said just now Come out here if you want to hear me talk. Where I come in is what I want to know.	./cache/3026.txt	./txt/3026.txt