Genre Short Story. Page - 9

ay and ate heartily.III Retief leaned back, grateful for the lull in the music. The last of the dishes were whisked away, and more glasses filled. The exhausted entertainers stopped to pick up the thick square coins the diners threw. Retief sighed. It had been a rare feast. "Retief," Magnan said in the comparative quiet, "what were you saying about dog food as the music came up?" Retief looked at him. "Haven't you noticed the pattern, Mr. Magnan? The series of

o Fomalhaut V.It was a busy two weeks for everyone involved. Captain Peter Wayne, as a central part of the team, spent much of his time planning his attack. His job would be the actual climbing of the mountain where the double-nucleus beryllium was located. It wasn't going to be an easy job; the terrain was rough, the wind, according to Jervis, whipped ragingly through the hills, and the jagged peaks thrust into the air like the teeth of some mythical dragon. Study of the three-dimensional

want a word again, gentlemen - what do you call that which they give to people when it's found out, at last, that they've never been of any use, and have been paid too much for doing nothing?''Compensation?' suggested the vice. 'That's it,' said the chairman. 'Compensation. They didn't give it him, though, and then he got very fond of his country all at once, and went about saying that gas was a death-blow to his native land, and that it was a plot of the radicals to ruin the country and

ell. Kadin stabbed hard, burying his black knife to the hilt in the man's throat. The small man gurgled and fell. Even in death his face was calm.They rode hard that night and into the late morning. Sweat poured over Kadin's face and down his braids to his back. Every step his horse took was a new lesson in pain. He passed out at least twice but Lenda's cry woke him before he fell from his mount. If he had fallen, he would have died. At high sun, when the red orb burned hottest spotted the

e at the desk-lamp. "F(t)--I mean, if you counted the kappa waves of my radio-atomic brain now, you'd be amazed how the frequency's increased." He paused thoughtfully. "F(t)," he added.Moving quite slowly, like a man under water, Martin lifted his glass and drank whiskey. Then, cautiously, he looked up at the robot again. "F(t)--" he said, paused, shuddered, and drank again. That did it. "I'm drunk," he said with an air of shaken relief. "That must

a red light, that streamed across the ceiling and staved off the shadows from me. The fire! Of course I could still thrust my candle between the bars and relight it.I turned to where the flames were still dancing between the glowing coals and splashing red reflections upon the furniture; made two steps toward the grate, and incontinently the flames dwindled and vanished, the glow vanished, the reflections rushed together and disappeared, and as I thrust the candle between the bars darkness

culiar difficulties and dangers in it, a long way over and above those which attend all voyages. It must not be supposed that I was afraid to face them; but, in my opinion a man has no manly motive or sustainment in his own breast for facing dangers, unless he has well considered what they are, and is able quietly to say to himself, "None of these perils can now take me by surprise; I shall know what to do for the best in any of them; all the rest lies in the higher and greater hands to

eer old stone that is," he went on, pointing to a block of limestone rising out of the turf just beneath the wall."It looks like a sort of dwarf pillar, but I suppose it is natural." "Oh, yes, I think so. I imagine it was brought here, though, as we stand on the red sandstone. No doubt it was used as a foundation stone for some older building." "Very likely." Dyson was peering about him attentively, looking from the ground to the wall, and from the wall to the

earnestness. He even found leisure to organize a theatrical company (in which he himself acted with a number of other famous writers of the time), which gave several plays for the benefit of charity. One of these was performed before Queen Victoria.People have often wondered how Dickens found time to accomplish so many different things. One of the secrets of this, no doubt, was his love of order. He was the most systematic of men. Everything he did "went like clockwork," and he prided

IN SEARCH OF A RELIGION.BY MR. BENJAMINS. CHAPTER I. "I remember him a little boy," said the Duchess. "His mother was a dear friend of mine; you know she was one of my bridesmaids." "And you have never seen him since, mamma?" asked the oldest married daughter, who did not look a day older than her mother. "Never; he was an orphan shortly after. I have often reproached myself, but it is so difficult to see boys." This simple yet first-class conversation