April 1, 1962
Message in a Bottle
There are days when the world pauses, gets stuck, senselessly, like one of those machines that ought to give cigarettes or make balls bump round but simply becomes an object […]
April 1, 1962
The Picnickers
In their bedroom under the roof, where Jess and Eliza slept, the July morning was already warm at 5.30. Though he hadn’t roused her when he got up, Eliza knew […]
April 1, 1962
Sailing against the Wind
For many years, Father Urban had traveled out of Chicago, giving retreats and parish missions. During those years, he had made himself nationally known as a preacher, and this without […]
January 1, 1962
Bobby Shafter’s Gone to Sea
It was on a T-2 tanker, some years ago, that I became a particular friend of the steward. He was a stocky, smooth-spoken young man of about thirty, of mixed […]
January 1, 1962
Bounty Hunters
The doe was a half-mile off the shore, and moving over the ice slowly, with her weakened legs spraddled to hold her balance. Now, knowing her fate, she paused in […]
January 1, 1962
Some Grist for Mervyn’s Mill
Mervyn Kaplansky stepped out of the rain on a dreary Saturday afternoon in August to inquire about our back bedroom. “It’s $12.00 a week,” my father said, “payable in advance.” […]
October 1, 1961
The Short Rope
Each time the Negro came out to take the empty glasses and freshen the drinks, the atmosphere on the porch changed completely. In between his visits, the men sat on […]
October 1, 1961
Hanging Hair
The old woman lived in a crumpled shack on the high cliffdown past the river where the wind came in strong from the end of the ocean and bent the […]
October 1, 1961
Rare and Precious Wares
All right, maybe this marsh isn’t much of a Reserve, only a few thousand acres of grassland and much of it poor nest-brood cover at that, but it’s the last […]
July 1, 1961
Wedding Preparations
From Early Morning, thinking of Denis’ arrival, Mrs. George was cross. She followed Kathleen around, saying: “I’ll speak right out, Kath, don’t think I won’t.” Kathleen, frying the lodgers’ breakfast, […]
July 1, 1961
Margot and the Gargoyle
Margot Dowling, thirty-five, pretty, American, recently widowed, modestly moneyed, childless, and a student once again, left her Paris hotel and walked along the Boulevard St. Michel toward the Seine. It […]
July 1, 1961
To Hell the Rabbis
My father-in-law, Mr. Bronnish, had never had the pleasure of meeting Mahatma Ghandi. However, he admired him profoundly, and tried, as well as the cacaphonies of Chicago would allow, to […]