Today's Stichomancy for Francis Ford Coppola

putting her behind him, he said in a low, but Perfectly distinct voice, "It was I that killed Crimtyphon."

Oceaxe looked both haughty and frightened. "Maskull says that so as to shield me, as he thinks. I require no shield, Maskull. I killed him, Tydomin."

"I believe you, Oceaxe. You did murder him. Not with your own strength, for you brought this man along for the purpose."

Maskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin. "It's of little consequence who killed him, for he's better dead than alive, in my opinion. Still, I did it. Oceaxe had no hand in the affair."

Tydomin appeared not to hear him - she looked beyond him at Oceaxe

men, and presently out of the confusion and turmoil she felt the near presence of a human being, and then hands reached forth and seized her. It was dark and she could see but little, nor any sign of the English officer or the ape-man. The man who seized her kept the lions from her with what ap- peared to be a stout spear, the haft of which he used to beat off the beasts. The fellow dragged her from the cavern the while he shouted what appeared to be commands and warn- ings to the lions.

Once out upon the light sands of the bottom of the gorge objects became more distinguishable, and then she saw that

Tarzan the Untamed

Two inexperienced persons, ignorant of the world and of one another, how can they be said to choose?--they draw lots, whence also the saying, 'marriage is a lottery.' Then he would describe their way of life after marriage; how they monopolize one another's affections to the exclusion of friends and relations: how they pass their days in unmeaning fondness or trivial conversation; how the inferior of the two drags the other down to his or her level; how the cares of a family 'breed meanness in their souls.' In the fulfilment of military or public duties, they are not helpers but hinderers of one another: they cannot undertake any noble enterprise, such as makes the names of men and women famous, from domestic considerations. Too late their eyes are opened; they were taken unawares

It was Emilia who sat beside the grave, her dark hair drooping and dishevelled, her carnation cheek still brilliant after the night's excitement; and he who sat at her feet, grasping her hand in both of his, while his lips poured out passionate words to which she eagerly listened, was Philip Malbone.

Here, upon the soil of a new nation, lay a spot whose associations seemed already as old as time could make them,--the last footprint of a tribe now vanished from this island forever,--the resting-place of a race whose very funerals would soon be no more. Each April the robins built their nests around these crumbling stones, each May they reared