In abandoned cisterns and old wells, in moldy heaps of straw forgotten in the corners of deserted barns, in reedy pools deep in the woods, in fungied hollows of dead trees, in all such secret places apart from man, strange life engenders, drifts in and takes root and form.
It is the kind of news item you read at least a dozen times a year, wonder about briefly, and then promptly forget-but the real story is the one that the reporters are unable to cover!
When you consider the varieties of people who will in all probability populate the near future the irrepressible George Gannett of this utterly delightful excursion into the star-bright realms of unorthodox fantasy should not too greatly surprise an Evelyn-Smith-enchanted-reader.
We've often wondered what would happen if Robert Young should cease to be a lyrically intense writer for a story or two, forsaking the bright, poetic worlds of miss katy three and the first sweet sleep of night to become dispassionately analytical on a cosmic scale.
The history of this materialistic world is highlighted with strange events that scientists and historians, unable to explain logically, have dismissed with such labels as "e;supernatural,"e; "e;miracle,"e; etc.
Every writer must seek his own Flowery Kingdom in imagination's wide demesne, and if that search can begin and end on Earth his problem has been greatly simplified.
Science fiction, in collaboration with the idea-men and technicians of Hollywood, has been responsible for many horrors, dating back to "e;The Cabinet of Dr.
The gifting of animals with human speech is scarcely an unique idea-see Dal Stivens' THE UNDOING OF CARNEY JIMMY in this issue should you have doubts-the idea of a talking horse goes back at least to the siege of Troy, for certainly there must have been some dialogue amongst the Greek warriors enclosed in the wooden horse's belly.
