Today's Stichomancy for Tiger Woods

overcome us had we nothing better to offer in defense, and so I drew my pistol and fired at the leader. He dropped like a stone, and the others turned and fled. Once again the girl smiled her slow smile and stepping closer, caressed the barrel of my automatic. As she did so, her fingers came in contact with mine, and a sudden thrill ran through me, which I attributed to the fact that it had been so long since I had seen a woman of any sort or kind.

She said something to me in her low, liquid tones; but I could not understand her, and then she pointed toward the north and started away. I followed her, for my way was north too; but

The People That Time Forgot

He could only bake Bridecake--for which, I may state, No materials were to be had.

The last of the crew needs especial remark, Though he looked an incredible dunce: He had just one idea--but, that one being "Snark," The good Bellman engaged him at once.

He came as a Butcher: but gravely declared, When the ship had been sailing a week, He could only kill Beavers. The Bellman looked scared, And was almost too frightened to speak:

But at length he explained, in a tremulous tone,

The Hunting of the Snark

complaisance so far, as to have left a seventh open for them,--and in this very spot I stand on; but being told by a Critick (tho' not by occupation,- -but by nature) that I had acquitted myself well enough, I shall fill it up directly, hoping, in the mean time, that I shall be able to make a great deal of more room next year.

--How, in the name of wonder! could your uncle Toby, who, it seems, was a military man, and whom you have represented as no fool,--be at the same time such a confused, pudding-headed, muddle-headed, fellow, as--Go look.

So, Sir Critick, I could have replied; but I scorn it.--'Tis language unurbane,--and only befitting the man who cannot give clear and satisfactory accounts of things, or dive deep enough into the first causes

But now our torches began to run low. A small dry bush grew near the entrance. We ignited it, and while it blazed we hastily sorted a blanket apiece and tumbled the rest out of the drip.

Our return without torches along the base of that butte was something to remember. The night was so thick you could feel the darkness pressing on you; the mountain dropped abruptly to the left, and was strewn with boulders and blocks of stone. Collisions and stumbles were frequent. Once I stepped off a little ledge five or six feet--nothing worse than a barked shin. And all the while the rain, pelting us unmercifully, searched out what poor little remnants of dryness we had been able to retain.