Lizzie Borden h an axe

    Gave y whacks

    she had done

    Sy-one.

    Childrens rhyme

    Early in t, 1892, in Fall River, Massacts.

    , , . . . very early in tory , even at ttack of we, furious sun already ill air.

    Its inants o terms ,  is ty more t t makes tolerable; t s o take off t  up to t so ts of trious, self-mortifying saints estant eto a country intended for ta and are proud, proud! of flying in ture. In most latitudes ay all day in penumbra beters; you o make your oo cool yourself  timate decade of t century finds us at t of le, men  into ts, vests and coats and trousers of sturdy te ties, too, t is so virtuous to be uncomfortable.

    And today it is t oucies, already, and ss .

    As far as cloto get off more liger breakfast and ties, Lizzie Borden on frock -- but, under t,  a long, starcton petticoat; anot, starcton petticoat; long draockings; a c t took ern igrapped a ing.

    In all t of sorts and nauseous as sing ,  up a flat-iron on a stove and press ed iron until it is time for o go doo to collect tc ion -- quot;Lizzie Borden ; -- al Cathe emblem of her passion.

    Soon, in just as many clot Miss Lizzie , t girl,  nigick or tles doing company as serwards.

    In a serge suit, one look at  in prickly , Old Borden e toruffling for money like a pig until urn o keep a pressing appointment iny.

    But nobody , yet; it is still early morning, before tory  stillness of  e, t of Nee, and te.

    If en ts of tcs of t and ts of perpetual p on tten, too, t, tic odours -- ill-ely plumbed privies; rotting food; unattended teetreets are no fres acridity of enccic he fishmonger.

    You o your nose. You  t of thed.

    Five living creatures are asleep in a reet, Fall River. t old man oract.  aker but ly branc in several directions and all  of t fiscally gratifying kind.

    But you o look at  less, small and mean -- quot;unpretentiousquot;, you mig --  itself sater days some time ago. t;Andre; in flo on te next to tands by itself  feet of yard on eit is a stable, out of use since  grorees, laden at this season.

    On ticular morning, as luck  daugaken o nearby Neo catcer.

    Feay in Fall River in ting mont but, treet, in t of toed aoo, to a summer o join a merry band of girls but, as if on purpose to mortify ant business kept ed to, s go.

    t belong ing, passing tander, .

    rite  of t.

    Even torically unimpeacic apocalypse must be crude and tic effect.

    rite Jo of t.

    One old man and t.

    ty ters to t stroke of six and Bridgets alarm clock gives a sympatic skip and click as te-utters on ttle  to  top of  Bridgets damp eyelids do not sion as sicking flannel nig on an iron bedstead, lies on aug, to make less trouble for taker.

    Semper is sometimes uncertain and talk back to times, and o confess tience to t. Overcome by  and nausea -- for everyone in to oday -- surn to ttle bed later in tcs rest, upstairs, all  loose, doairs.

    A rosary of bro of t from a Portuguese sograpelpiece t, ts er,  stick. A banged tin trunk at t of ts worldly goods.

    tiff c, a candlestick, matc resounds tallic clang, for it is a joke bet and ress t tory  are just about to blast off, just t to blast off. . .

    A splintered deal o lug er up to t to wipe  wer enougchen sink.

    Old Borden sees no necessity for bat believe in total immersion. to lose ural oils o rob his body.

    A frameless square of mirror reflects in corrugated y soap disaining a quantity of black metal hairpins.

    On brigangles of paper blinds move tiful srees.

    Alt left t into t  of tself tigo tic. A dandruff of spent wewashe ceiling where a fly drearily whines.

    t of sleep, t sisill, all still; in all t tillness on taircase. Stillness pressing against tillness, mortal stillness in ter and Mistress srimonial bed.

    ere t, one could better observe terity of t splas is of ty; torting mirror; no mirror in t take your face and t it. On t-me-nots; on teetly ts underneaty-pins, s etc. ttle  Mrs Borden attaco ime  of Bordens male occupation of trace because  door, on t. . .

    about t to it?

    It leads to tairs.

    And t yet otially concealed behe heavy, mahogany bed?

    If it  kept securely locked, it ake you into Miss Lizzies room.

    One peculiarity of tain and, a furty,  open only into otairs and doairs, all t of one anot is a  passages. t of t  been marked as some inmates personal territory; it is a . It is a .

    to Emmas room is t of Emmas room. It is a dead end.

    tom of locking all tside, dates from a time, a fe came to aken one of trips out togeto a trap and set out for t So ensure enant  bilking ayed at tons more securely or ing letters or contemplating acts of cy among taring vacantly into space.

    I cant imagine  do.

    to me.

    Emma is more mysterious by far t o ter.

    quot;Girlsquot; is, of course, a courtesy term. Emma is o ies, Lizzie in ies, but t marry and so live in tive, protracted childhood.

    er and tress iptoed up tairs to trimonial bedroom and pocketed Mrs Bordens gold ce c under clean union suits in t. truder attempted to force t featureless block of black iron like a slaugar sitting squarely next to t it o penetrate adequately truder tackled it   come off.

    truder pissed and s on tter of t on to t into Old Bordens dressing room to maliciously assault t as it

    in t floor), retired to tcreacle crock, and ty or t lived beside the scullery sink.

    a mess! Lizzie stared  t bang of t ting room?  t dole? S know. S remember.

    All t  once h a cake of soap in her hand.

    So scream and s.

    quot;;

    Emma came doed er ed ttle one since baby ing-room carpet treacle Lizzie racked in from tc in  trance. But of trace could be found.

    I cannot tell you  t utterly disconcerted unned. It violated  took ay in in things.

    t ts ual silence o discuss it. t on tuguese, obviously, but sometimes on trage remained constant and did not diminisime, t varied according to ted t trangers and ne al trangers exclusively; sometimes t t migted the criminal classes.

    y of a poltergeist occurs to Mrs Borden, alt kno epdaugrange one and could make tes jump out of se, if sed to. But ter. Per is ter t  er t our.

    After t door and times if one of tants of t it for just so muco go into t of fallen pears  to  of ook a piss under a tree.

    From time dated tom of locking all tside , and put t of all on tchen shelf.

    to t nature of private property. er undertook an orgy of investment.  ar, for wh an office block?

    A number of leases fell in simultaneously at just time on a certain street in toy and Borden snapped t doone, -iron detail, from y,  reap a fine  of unsaleable rents, and t, like t of Ozymandias, ill, foursquare and reet. Not bad for a fish peddlers son, eh?

    For, alt;Bordenquot; is an ancient name in Neter part of Fall River, our Borden, Old Borden, t spring from a  from o o y but learned to t on property, for t  meaning for t no joy of it, it is stark necessity to them. hoever heard of a penniless miser?

    Morose and gaunt, tion is capital accumulation.

    is his hobby?

    he poor.

    First, Andreaker, and deaty of spindles, fetle caker, no! -- it  true  t off corpses to fit into a job lot of coffins boug  about by his enemies!

    its from  up a tenement or t sed in a bank or t noself,  of all.

    Foreclosures and evictions are meat and drink to ter ttle usury. o  million.

    At nigo save ts in lampless dark. ers trees e not,  not. As soon as tric squares and stores t te t fluso cc. And yet  gro on all ted off icks to  of s is from  profession t ately dignity of a hearse.

    to creet too be filled inctual respect for mortality,  made you too, riumpure it ead of four, in t place! For  ion it ual reminder to all  natural to be uprig it is a triumpy, in itself a transcendence of t over matter.

    born, impossible to imagine t spine of Old Bordens curled up in tus; s at neit   trembling earth like a bailiff pounding a door.

    e, crap beard, old-fas peace alents as the Good Book says he should.

    Yet do not t spot. Like Old Lear,  -- and, more t, ty in  daug see it, it lies under t a  a rinket for a fabulously misant daug to  sco , alo to ible day.

    s over cap, and urned towards y years, as is o his.

    tt in person, all and gaunt as a tle dougton, a solitary eater, most innocent of vices and yet to eat up all t, since fate  spread ly large table for ions, e, inglorious Napoleon,  knoy -- since  access to tire y of Fall River. But s gently, continuously stuffs  s somet the cud, perhaps.

    Not t ss muc, eit, sating te difference beto do so even if sion; sisfied to stick to simple gluttony and sones of ty of indulgence. Since s one single mouts, stony is no transgression.