Vet inte om denna syns, när den blir liten

Den mycket berömde poeten Robert Frost publicerade 1921 en dikt som hette "The census Taker"

I came an errand one cloud-blowing evening

To a slab-built, black-paper-covered house

Of one room and one window and one door,

The only dwelling in a waste cut over

A hundred square miles round it in the mountains:

And that not dwelt in now by men or women.

(It never had been dwelt in, though, by women,

So what is this I make a sorrow of?)

I came as census-taker to the waste

To count the people in it and found none.

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Texten i #0:

**THE GREAT TRIBULATION.
**Census Marshal.-"I jist want to know how many of yer is deaf, dumb, blind, insane and idiotic - likewise how many convicts there is in the family - what all your ages are, especially the old woman and the young ladies - and how many dollars the old gentleman is worth!"

(Tremendous sensation all round the table)

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