In That Little Party There Was Not

I Had This Story From One Who Had No Business To Tell It To Me, Or To Any Other. I May Credit The Seductive Influence Of An Old Vintage Upon The Narrator For The Beginning Of It, And My Own Skeptical Incredulity During The Days That Followed For The Balance Of The Strange Tale.

Death, Only, Renders Hope Futile.

For A Time Jack Was Angry; But When He Had Been Without The Jacket For A Short While He Began To Realize That Being Half-clothed Is Infinitely More Uncomfortable Than Being Entirely Naked. Soon He Did Not Miss His Clothing In The Least, And From That He Came To Revel In The Freedom Of His Unhampered State.

It Never Seems To Occur To Some People, That, Like Beauty, A Sense Of Humor May Sometimes Be Fatal.

I Have Discovered That The World Over, Unusual Weather Prevails At All Times Of The Year.