John Stinson Glassco
December 15, 1909 – January 29, 1981
The Scrambled-Eared GentryThe Broken Leg BrigadeCaprice ChinoisCharacters, Characters – Never Any Normal PeopleThe Younger Degeneration
I fired. His gun dropped to the carpet and he dropped on top of it, a pancake stain of blood growing in his thigh. He scrambled for the gun. I fired again. The second bullet hit him in the shoulder. He jerked convulsively and fell, face down, gasping. I felt no emotion. I had stopped him, the way you would shut a gate on a mad dog.
Uniformed police burst past me like the Charge of the Light Brigade. They were eager to do their duty.
If she did marry he would know at last to what he had forced her. He would have forced her to looking to another man for what she should have had from him – and then he would be repentant. Surely he would be repentant then!
He had known fellows who drank themselves to death; and except in the last dreadful stages it hadn't been so bad. They had certainly got their fun out of it, even if in the end they paid high. He was paying high – and perhaps getting nothing at all. Wouldn't it be better if he went off this minute somewhere, and made a night of it? – made a night which would be the beginning of a long succession of nights of the same kind? Then when he was ruined beyond recovery, or in his grave, Edith would know what she had done to him.
The woman's tears began to flow again."It's because I don't know what to do. When he doesn't come anymore–""Oh, so he doesn't come.""Not unless I make him."
Aretha van Herk, a 23-year-old Edmonton housewife and university student, good-humoredly climbed a ladder in a grimy downtown parking lot in Montreal recently to endorse her cheque – displayed on a massive billboard announcing "Congratulations Aritha!"... The Guinness Book of World Records will be asked to verify that the actual cheque – the billboard – is the largest cheque ever made.
'Casualty' [Arnold Gyde]
"A fictionalised memoir from one of the first soldiers ashore in France with the British Expeditionary Forces in World War One, drawing on his experiences of the horrific Mons campaign."
"Wells’s satire on literature, 'Boon' was originally published under the pseudonym Reginald Bliss; a follow-up to the Fabian-savaging 'The New Machiavelli'. 'Boon' was the book which destroyed his friendship with Henry James."
It was cold; bitterly paralysingly cold. There was a dampness in the air that bit into the marrow of your bones and stayed there. The red in the thermometer was below zero and still dropping steadily, and the weather forecasts offered no immediate hope of a let up. The city lay rigid under the stiffening blanket of snow. The air as you breathed it felt solid.
"Enjoy the dinner, Mr. Garfin?"I never cheat a client. I had a job. I said: "The name's Mike. No, I was bored as hell."It hit the mark. He patted my knee. We became pals. "Me, too," he said. "Let's counteract it with a little excitement. Two guys like us could have a lot of fun together. I know some very nice interior decorators. What do you enjoy, Mike?""Almost everything. But maybe you and I wouldn't agree on the ultimate enjoyment.""You never know," he murmured. "Sometimes it takes time..."
"I know a couple of dames who'll suit us fine," I said coldly.His eyebrows went up and suddenly he began to laugh. "Dear Mike, you said that with positive defiance. Did you think a woman would frighten me as I frightened you? Come don't be so constrictedly old-fashioned. Something for everybody is my motto. Flesh, fur or feathers, I take them all. And they remember it."
She fought for about twenty seconds and then the thaw set in. She melted like hot ice-cream and came back at me like a Hoover.