Editor - F. RANDALL JONES
Fiction Editor -DON COZADD
Henry R. Clauser, Jeanne Foster, Hervie Hauuer, Seymour S. Horowitz, Una
Kelley, Penelope Pearl, Frances Pyle, Harry Purdy.
Essay Editor - JAMES C. ALLEN
Seymour 'Pardell, William Loud, Virginia Finkleston, Gwen Lemon.
Poetry Editor - ROBERT WAYNE
Nelson Bentley, Joseph Gornbein, Ruth Hatfield, Eleanor McCoy, David
Review Editor - HARVEY SWADOS
Iris Behe, Marguerite Ezri, Elliott Maraniss. Ethel Norberg, Stanley Lebergott.
Publications Manager - JOHN R. STILES
Advisory Board - ARNO L. BADER, GIOVANNI GIOVANNINI, JAMES H. ROB-
ERTSON, WALLACE A. BACON.
A RETURN TO THE SOIL ..... ...Dennis 1 -nagan ........ Story .... Page 1
A HYMN TO SOCI TY ..............William Gram .......... Poem.,. .Page 2
THOMAS WOLFE. .............. . Elliot Maraniss .........Essay.... Page 3
THOMAS WOLFE, 1900-1938.........Seymour Horowitz ....... Poem..... Page 3
CiIANG KAI-SHEK ...... ..... . ..Charles Miller... Poem... .Page 3
THE WRITING OF POETRY ........ Carib.. ...............Poem..... Page 3
DUST AND IVORY...............Maritta Wolff ..........Story .... Page 4
IDEALIST-..........................Chad Walsh...........Poem..... Page 5
KENTUCKY MOONSHINE ........... Hervie Haufler .......... Essay. . .. Page 6
PLATONIC CONVERSATION ........ Eleanor McCoy ......... Poem..... Page 6
AN EVENING IN PROVINCETOWN. .Penelope Pearl .........Sketch... .Page 7
STEEL...........................Ralph Heikkinen ........Poem .... Page 5
BOOK REVIEWS....... .........by Gies, Swados, Brinnin,
Friedman, Maraniss ......... Page 7
field, seeming to exude a hea
ness of its own through some
piration. There was a faint a
of skunk and sour weed smells
in the air, almost Oppres
pleasant and tingling in the
There was a low chorus of
crickets; he could hear the c
loud against the high pitch
"I heard you shoot over
Hubert said. "Did you get an;
"No . . . I missed it, I gues
pretty dark when I shot. I
"You'd do better to shoot ra
a shotgun, like I said. You
anything on the fly with t
"This was sitting when I sh
Ernest said. He rose and wa
stairs to his room. He returne
pint bottle of whiskey.
"If you have a couple of g
could have a drink," he said.
They drank quietly in thec
tive darkness of the keroses
without looking at each other
turned toward him.
"It seems to me," he said."
to me that it's a darn funnyv
hunting, watching a house wit
Ernest looked up slowly. "I
watching me," he thought. "I
me out there on the hill, tI
fool. He might of seen me go
"I wasn't watching any h
said. "I was spotting ground
"There aren't any groundh
there to my mind."
"Why, sure there are. Right
the corner of that wheat field
"That's my field. There a
holes there that I can mind."
"He's trying to get me now
thought. "He thinks he has m
"Man, who do you thinkY
fooling, anyway?" Hubert said.
of them were silent.
"He thinks he has me now
he'll even try to get me. Oh Ge
a sloppy job." Hubert stood and
ed, then walked out to the kitch
go to watch myself now."
thought. He's liable to try so
he's dumb enough." He pulled
to him from the wall, facing th
entrance. "He'll come out in a
He waited for a long time,
hearing sounds of movement
kitchen. "Hubert," he called. "
He shouted out of the back d
the kitchen. "Hubert!"
"The damn fool," he said. "T
During the night he sat in
the door, waiting, his rifle a
knees. He listened carefully
sounds outside, but could hear
but the chirping sounds of the
and tree toads. The whiskey h
him sleepy, the taste of it sou
tongue. He listened carefully, b
hear nothing. ,
In the morning when he awa
still tired. He has been asleep,
still tired, and his neck is stiff
from sleeping sitting in the c
door when Ernest came in, reading a
newspaper. Ernest watched his face as
he stood and turned, but there was no
more than a smile, no moment of
doubt or fear. "Ernie!" he said. "How
are you? How are you! You're looking
great. Come on, have a seat and tell me
what's up." He still smiled, without
looking straight into Ernest's face. The
woman smiled pleasantly and walked
out of the room.
"Come on, Ernie, how about loosen-
ing up a little? How are all the boys in
"They're pretty good, Doc. ..I suppose
we all sort of 'wish that'you were back
with, us, but we know'how it is."
"Is Henry all right now? He looked
pretty bad .when I saw him last."
"He's trying to figure his way out
now.' Ernest thought. "He's wise now
and he's trying to figure his way out."
"Say, Ernie, wait a minute, will you?
I'll be right back."
"He's trying to get out of it now,"
Ernest thought. "He's going into the-
other room so he can get a gun. He
rose quickly and followed him into the
"Nice place you got here, Doc," he
said. Doc turned slowly, his hand still
on the drawer in his desk.'
"Yes, a nice place," he said. "Well, it
ought to be. I put enough dough into'
"It sure looks it." Doc was looking at
"What say we go in the living room,
Ernie? Maybe you want to meet my
wife. She's afine girl, Ernie; they don't,
come any better."
Ernest stood alone by the fireplace,;
looking at the ship's model on the
mantel. The room was very quiet; eveti
the woman seemed to have sensed the
tension. Doc stood in front of him, his
face white about the mouth.
"What say we have a drink, Ernie?"
"Sure," Ernest said. "He's going into
the other room again," he thought,
"and he won't come back without the
gun. He's afraid for her, too, now, and
he won't come back w ithout the gun.
It was growing dusk outside; the
woman turned on the floor lamp near
her chair. There was a pile of small
logs and a poker against the wall by the
fireplace. With her back toward him
the warm light from the lamp shone
softly on her hair, making it appear
reddish and fine where it curled about
her neck. The skin on the back of her
neck was soft and white; he almost
wanted to touch it. "If I don't do this,"
he thought. "If I don't do this he'll come
back with the gun in a few minutes."
When he put the log back on the pile
by the fireplace she slumped heavily to
the side of the chair. "I didn't hit her
very hard," he said. "She's all right." He
slammed the door violently as he ran
out to the front porch.
Waiting by the tree with the rifle
stock against his shoulder, the soft rub-
ber cup of the telescope against his eye,
he thought, "He'll come out pretty soon
now. He'll see her in the living room
and come -out after me. I'll see him in
the telescope just as he comes oit on
the porch. The poor bastard, he'llcome
out on the porch and I won't give hime a
chance. Not even in this light, he won't
have a chance, the poor bastard."
He walked carefully around Doc as
he went back intothe house. without
even looking down at him. 'The poor
bastard; the crosshair was full on him
when I shot."
She was still in the chair where he
had left her, slumped to one side, still
unconscious. She seemed* very heavy,
but he managed to carry her to the
couch at the other side of the room.'He
tied her wrists and ankles with heavy
package twine, listering to her stertor-
ous' and labored breathing.
The hay was already wet with the
evening dew as he walked. across the
vy .damp- stands, and looks about the room, but
secret ex- there is no one there. He shouts for
crid odor Hubert, but it is quiet, with only the
hanging faint rustling of the trees outside on
sive, but the lawn, the trees rustling in the
nostril. bright and shadowed morning sun-
chirping light. He sits in the chair again, think-
lose ones ing, the rifle still across his knees. "He
ed back- hasn't come back yet," he thinks. "He
hasn't comne back yet and there doesn't
seem to be anyone outside."
there He packs his valise quickly and puts
ything?" his rifle case, folded double, under his
s. Itawas arm. He sees that the gun is cocked and
twas a loaded. He knows that it is fifty yards
from the house to the barn and it seems
bbits with quiet and still outside. The fifty yards
can't get seem a mile to him, and the weeds are
hat gun hot and sour smelling, with the sun
beating down, but he hears nothing.
otk at it," He is a half mile down the road, driv-
lked up- ing fast, even though he does not do so
d with a ordinarily. "I can get through to the
road now," he says. "I can get through
nTheiron hayrake is heavy and solid
lompara- looking, parked as it is across the road.
se lamp, He can see the road beyond, through
Hubert the rake prongs, but he knows that it is
"It seems iron, and heavy. He stops a hundred
way to go feet before reaching it, looking through
h a spy- the prongs to the road beyond. There
are high banks on each side of the road,
He's been covered with thickets of red and green
He's seen sumac, and he sees a movement in one
he's seen of them to his left; a man is watching
he damn him through the branches of the red
down to and green sumac.
ruse," he ."They don't want me," he says. "It's
. ,", just as if I wanted to kill him and they
hogs." want to get me for it." He lies on his
ogs down belly across the front seat, protected by
d i the side of the car. The coarse, bristly
down in seat fabric is dirty against his cheek as
there." he grips the forearm of his rifle tightly.
m't any He opens the door on the side away
SErnest from the man on the bank carefully, so
, that he doesn't have to raise his head.
e '' The seat is rough and clinging as he
you been slides across it on his belly to the
The two ground outside the door. Crouching be-
hind the hood of the car, he begins to
d. Maybe look over the top when he hears a sound
.d, this is behind him.
sen. "I've The inside of the muzzle of the shot-
En 'T gun is shiny, and bright, reflecting the
Ernest early morning sun. He can almost see
the rifle downinto the throat of the barrel, but
ehkitchen he can't see the man behind it and the
ekitchen rifle is heavy and slow as he tries to
minute, bring it up to his shoulder.
without He is sitting now, instead of kneeling,
in the sitting with his back against -the sharp
Hubert!" edge of the running board, his legs
cor from sprawled in front of hum. His chest is
warm, as if he had just taken a drink
he damn of some trehendously strong liquor, and
the warmth is spreading. He can feel it
front of in his whole chest, and it is spreading
cross his lowes into his belly. He can feel it rising
to the in his throat when he first sees the men
nothing standing about him. He can move his
crickets hand, but only stiffly and slowly, and
ad made he feels it stop moving. He is looking
ir on his straight upward at the men now,feelng
ut could the sharp stones and hard packed earth
of the road against his back. The stones
are sharp and rough, but already he
can't feel them; he can only see the
kes he is heads of the men as they stand in a cir-
but he is cle looking down at him, their heads
and sore close together and pointing inwards,
hair. He almost like the spokes of a wheel. He
cannot see their bodies, but only the
heads looking downward, with a mauve
colored darkness wheee' their necks and
bodies begin, as though they were peer-
ing at him over the edge of a steep wall-
ed bowl. He tries to count the heads,
but his brain refuses to function; he can
tell only that there are several of them.
The warm colored darkness is rising
slightly now and the heads are not so
clear. He tries again to count the heads
peering over the edge-of the cylinder at
him. They fade as his head begins to
ache painfully and become a bright
greenish yellow, while the sky behind
them becomes purple. The heads are
normal again now, but the mauve dark-
ness is rising up the cylinder and they
become dimmer. Now he can only see
a single bright spot of the sky immedi-
ately above him, and soon even that
Will you weep, then. with this man of bleak uneloquence?
Will you condone his dark ways, his sacked expression,
and the arctic voice - the brittle undertones
of studied and unnatural discretion?
You, who are scavengers of all unholy,
gluttoning from graves, and mocking deity-
hold, for a time, your merciless appetites.
and mourn a fragile, ruined enemy!
You, the three-barbed spiderwasp and purple robe-
reducing the robust clasp to a whispered pressure-
Beware! This shell has gained the gathering's heart;
next, you may be the victims of the seizure.
- WILLIAM GIRAM