The Boston Evening Transcript
The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript 
Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn. 
 
When evening quickens faintly in the street, 
Wakening the appetites of life in some 
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning 
Wearily, as one would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld, 
If the street were time and he at the end of the street, 
And I say, "Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."
T. S. Eliot
                            
                            
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