Games From Folktales

Dunsany: Death and the Orange Two dark young men in a foreign southern land sat at a restaurant table with one woman. And on the woman’s plate was a small orange which had an evil laughter in its heart. And both of the men would be looking at the woman all the time, and they…

To be rich is a luxurious sensation—the more so when you have plumbed the depths of hard-up-ness as a Fleet Street hack, a picker-up of unconsidered pars, a reporter, an unappreciated journalist—all callings utterly inconsistent with one’s family feeling and one’s direct descent from the Dukes of Picardy. When my Aunt Dorcas died and left…

I had come to the Art Museum to see the special show of Goya prints, but that particular gallery was so crowded that I could hardly get in, much less see or savor anything; wherefore I walked out again. I wandered through the other wings with their rows and rows of oils, their Greek and…