October 1, 1956
Margie, This Is Your Father
Margie was a lucky girl because when she was born she had four brothers and four sisters already born before her, and she even had one brother-in-law. She was a […]
October 1, 1956
The Retirement of Professor John Underhill
John Underhill drove slowly along the winding cemetery road because it was narrow and uphill and because, consciously or not, he always did what seemed the proper thing to do. […]
July 1, 1956
Greenleaf
Mrs. May’s bedroom window was low and faced on the east and the bull, silvered in the moonlight, stood under it, his head raised as if he listened—like some patient […]
April 1, 1956
An Encounter with the Law
In Indian summer, while the sun still blazed and the trees began to turn, Samuel Amram drove up through New England to view the colors of the Fall. He made […]
October 1, 1955
The Appointed Hour
It was late at night. The summer was almost over. In a few days we would be back in our places all over the country, but still another night we […]
July 1, 1955
Old Wildwood
On a soft morning in May, at the American Express in Rome, the grandson was handed a letter; and high up on the Spanish Steps he sat alone and opened […]
July 1, 1955
Tradition
Below the village of Ravensburg, at the edge of the woods and facing the swampy bottom lands that spread to the river, old Mr. Birch had his cabin where he […]
April 1, 1955
The Artificial Nigger
Mr. Head awakened to discover that the room was full of moonlight. He sat up and stared at the floor boards—the color of silver—and then at the ticking on his […]
April 1, 1955
The Dancing of Reb Hershl with the Withered Hand
It was in the time of my grandfather that the small but prosperous Jewish community of M. was threatened with extinction. My grandfather had known as a young man many […]
April 1, 1955
The Head in the Parlor
It was seeing Jack Pryden that afternoon, after so many years, that gave me the idea of going to see old Baldur Blake, the sculptor. I didn’t know why. I […]
January 1, 1955
The Chevigny Man
The last of the Renaissance men,” said Paul Teeling, tipping the bottle uncertainly at the jigger as if trying to salt the tail of an elusive bird. “Poet, art-critic, novelist, […]
October 1, 1954
The Safe Place
In his fifty-third year a chemical blast burned the beard from the Colonel’s face, and gave to his eyes their characteristic powdery blue. Some time later his bushy eyebrows came […]