Men don't believe in a devil now, As their fathers used to do; They've forced the door of the broadest creed To let his majesty through; There isn't a print of his cloven foot; Or a fiery dart from his bow, To be found in earth or air to-day, For the world has voted so. But who is mixing the fatal draft That palsies heart and brain, And loads the earth of each passing year With ten hundred thousand slain? Who blights the bloom of the land to-day With the fiery breath of hell, If the devil isn't and never was? Won't somebody rise and tell? ' Alfred J. Hough.

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