sbirch/height-height-overflow.html

## height-height-overflow.html
<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
	<head>
		<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Tenor+Sans|Esteban' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
		<style>
			#demo{
				width: 30em;
				overflow: hidden;
				font-family: 'Esteban';
			}
		</style>
	</head>
	<body>
		<div id="demo">
			<p>I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his
			tombstone and my sister,&mdash;Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith.
			As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness
			of either of them (for their days were long before the days of
			photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like were
			unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on
			my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man,
			with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription,
			&ldquo;Also Georgiana Wife of the Above,&rdquo; I drew a childish conclusion that
			my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each
			about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside
			their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of
			mine,&mdash;who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in
			that universal struggle,&mdash;I am indebted for a belief I religiously
			entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands
			in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of
			existence.</p>
		</div>
		<script>
			document.getElementById('demo').style.height = document.getElementById('demo').clientHeight + 'px';
		</script>
	</body>
</html>
	<!DOCTYPE html>
	<html>
	<head>
	<link href='http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Tenor+Sans\|Esteban' rel='stylesheet' type='text/css'>
	<style>
	#demo{
	width: 30em;
	overflow: hidden;
	font-family: 'Esteban';
	}
	</style>
	</head>
	<body>
	<div id="demo">
	<p>I give Pirrip as my father's family name, on the authority of his
	tombstone and my sister,—Mrs. Joe Gargery, who married the blacksmith.
	As I never saw my father or my mother, and never saw any likeness
	of either of them (for their days were long before the days of
	photographs), my first fancies regarding what they were like were
	unreasonably derived from their tombstones. The shape of the letters on
	my father's, gave me an odd idea that he was a square, stout, dark man,
	with curly black hair. From the character and turn of the inscription,
	“Also Georgiana Wife of the Above,” I drew a childish conclusion that
	my mother was freckled and sickly. To five little stone lozenges, each
	about a foot and a half long, which were arranged in a neat row beside
	their grave, and were sacred to the memory of five little brothers of
	mine,—who gave up trying to get a living, exceedingly early in
	that universal struggle,—I am indebted for a belief I religiously
	entertained that they had all been born on their backs with their hands
	in their trousers-pockets, and had never taken them out in this state of
	existence.</p>
	</div>
	<script>
	document.getElementById('demo').style.height = document.getElementById('demo').clientHeight + 'px';
	</script>
	</body>
	</html>