Explore "A Caller" by Ambrose Bierce on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Why, Goldenson, you're looking very well." / Said Death as, strolling through the County Jail, / He entered that serene assassin's cell / And hung his hat and coat upon a nail. / "I think that life in this secluded spot / Agrees with men of your trade, does it not?"
"Well, yes," said Goldenson, "I can't complain: / Life anywhere -- provided it is mine -- / Agrees with me; but I observe with pain / That still the people murmur and repine.