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The last thing he heard before he slept was the spade rising and falling and digging a hole into which, with a treolden mist and odor and color and sound, New York collapsed, fell, and was buried

He cried all night in his sleep

The Concrete Mixer

HE LISTENED to the dry-grass rustle of the old witches' voices beneath his open :

"Ettil, the coward! Ettil, the refuser! Ettil, ill not wage the glorious war of Mars against Earth!"

"Speak on, witches!" he cried

The voices dropped to acanals under the Martian sky

"Ettil, the father of a son who e!" said the old wrinkled woether "Shame, shame!"

His as crying on the other side of the room Her tears were as rain, numerous and cool on the tiles "Oh, Ettil, how can you think this way?"

Ettil laid aside hishiolden-wired frame

"I've tried to explain," he said "This is a foolish thing, Mars invading Earth We'll be destroyed, utterly"

Outside, a banging, crashing boo feet, pennants and songs Through the stone sheets the army, fire weapons to shoulder, stas

"I shall remain on Mars and read a book," said Ettil A blunt knock on the door Tylla answered Father-in-law stormed in "What's this I hear about my son-in-law? A traitor?"

"Yes, Father"

"You're not fighting in the Martian Army?"