{"id":9651,"date":"2019-01-31T13:05:10","date_gmt":"2019-01-31T13:05:10","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=9651"},"modified":"2019-01-31T13:05:10","modified_gmt":"2019-01-31T13:05:10","slug":"weird-tales-v36n09-january-1943","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?p=9651","title":{"rendered":"Weird Tales v36n09, January 1943"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301a.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9655\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9655\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301x600a.jpg?fit=410%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"410,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301x600a\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301x600a.jpg?fit=137%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301x600a.jpg?fit=410%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"size-full wp-image-9655 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301x600a.jpg?resize=410%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"410\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301x600a.jpg?w=410&amp;ssl=1 410w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301x600a.jpg?resize=137%2C200&amp;ssl=1 137w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 410px) 100vw, 410px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>ISFDB <a href=\"http:\/\/www.isfdb.org\/cgi-bin\/pl.cgi?61961\">link<\/a><br \/>\nArchive.org <a href=\"https:\/\/archive.org\/details\/Weird_Tales_v36n09_1943-01_AT\">link<\/a><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_____________________<\/p>\n<p>Editor, Dorothy McIlwraith; Associate Editor, Lamont Buchanan<\/p>\n<p>Fiction:<br \/>\n<strong><em>Quest of a Noble Tiger<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Frank Owen <strong>\u2217<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em>The Statue<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by James Causey <strong>\u2217<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em>One-Man Boat<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Alice-Mary Schnirring <strong>\u2217<\/strong><strong>\u2217<\/strong><strong>\u2217<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em>The Two Moons of Tranquillia<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Arthur Leo Zagat <strong>\u2217<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em>Say a Prayer for Harvey<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by John J. Wallace <strong>\u2217<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em>Bindings Deluxe<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by David H. Keller <strong>\u2217<\/strong><strong>\u2217<\/strong>+<br \/>\n<strong><em>Seventh Sister<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by Mary Elizabeth Counselman <strong>\u2217<\/strong><strong>\u2217<\/strong>+<br \/>\n<strong><em>The Eager Dragon<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 novelette by Robert Bloch <strong>\u2217<\/strong><strong>\u2217<\/strong>+<br \/>\n<strong><em>McElwin\u2019s Glass<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 short story by August Derleth <strong>\u2217<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em>Repayment <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 short story by Seabury Quinn <strong>\u2217<\/strong><strong>\u2217<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Non-fiction:<br \/>\n<strong><em>Cover <\/em><\/strong>\u2022 by A. R. Tilburne<br \/>\n<strong><em>Interior artwork<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 by A. R. Tilburne (x2), Boris Dolgov (x4), uncredited (x2), John Giunta (x2), Damon Knight, Irwin J. Weill, Andrew Brosnatch, column headings by Hannes Bok<br \/>\n<strong><em>The Shape of Thrills to Come<\/em><\/strong><br \/>\n<strong><em>After an Air Raid<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 poem by Dorothy Quick<br \/>\n<strong><em>Superstitions and Taboos<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by Irwin J. Weill<br \/>\n<strong><em>The Eyrie<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 essay by The Editor, Arthur Leo Zagat, and by Seabury Quinn<br \/>\n<strong><em>Weird Tales Club<\/em><\/strong> \u2022 letters and listings<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_____________________<\/p>\n<p>The last <em>Weird Tales<\/em> I read was the March 1940 issue\u2014the final one with Farnsworth Wright as editor. This number sees us almost three years into Dorothy McIlwraith\u2019s reign, another leg of the magazine\u2019s long decline.<sup>1<\/sup><\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p006.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9663\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9663\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p006x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p006x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p006x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p006x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9663 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p006x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p006x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p006x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>The fiction leads off with <strong><em>Quest of a Noble Tiger<\/em><\/strong> by Frank Owen. This starts with Richard Trent, one of the \u201cFlying Tigers\u201d baling out of his fighter over China.<sup>2<\/sup> Initially he is unconscious as he falls but recovers and deploys his parachute. He floats with the wind, and the stars fade from sight. Eventually, he lands in a rocky blackness and hears a repeated phrase, \u201cThis is the hour of mistfeeding\u201d, which eventually lulls him to sleep.<br \/>\nTrent later wakes in a bed and meets a Chinese man called Mu Lin, who tells him that he has parachuted into a secret land and he must die, but not before being honoured for fighting for China. After this bombshell there is a lot of chatter about various subjects (Mu Lin talks about his people and their history, and conducts a verbal sparring match with Trent, all of which slows the story down dreadfully).<br \/>\nLater on Mu Lin speaks about flies in amber, and how his beloved underwent a similar process. They go to see her, and Mu Lin states that one day he will set the amber on fire and set her free. Needless to say (spoiler), Trent has become infatuated, and shortly returns to do just that. The girl comes alive and kisses Trent. Mu Lin discovers them and attacks him; the girl flees to the river and dives in. Trent escapes and dives in after her, but while swimming underwater passes out.<br \/>\nThe story ends with him coming back to consciousness in the normal world thinking it had all been a dream, but he finds her kingfisher hair pin in his hand.<br \/>\nThere is no real story here, just over much description and an arbitrary series of events (some of which are not explained: why was she in the amber, and why did she run?) It is also too slow-moving, and a strange choice of story with which to start the issue.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p020.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9665\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9665\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p020x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p020x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p020x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p020x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"size-full wp-image-9665 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p020x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p020x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p020x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>The Statue<\/em><\/strong> by James Causey starts with a loan shark called Winters putting the squeeze on an indebted artist. The latter has given Winters the unfinished statue of a young child as security and\u00a0he asks to see it once more before it is sold. Winters agrees. However, when the artist asks if he can finish the sculpture, Winters refuses. The artist ominously replies that, nevertheless, it\u00a0will be finished in a week. He leaves, and dies in a vehicle accident\u00a0shortly afterwards.<br \/>\nThereafter Winters hears scratching noises at night, and notices changes to the hands of the statue. Once these are fully formed (spoiler) they provide a predictable conclusion.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p027.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9667\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9667\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p027x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p027x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p027x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p027x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9667\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p027x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p027x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p027x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>One-Man Boat<\/em><\/strong> by Alice-Mary Schnirring<sup>3<\/sup> tells of a man called Chambers who buys a boat with an unhappy history\u2014the original owner committed suicide, and a subsequent owner drowned. Nevertheless Chambers completes the purchase and then talks to the last owner, who warns him about strange goings on and specifically tells him not to sail the boat alone. But one night Chambers sets off sets off on a solo voyage. . . .<br \/>\nThis is a very straightforward story with a predictable end but I found it an engaging and well done piece\u2014the setting and nautical stuff is convincing, and it is well paced. It also has a good last line.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9669\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9669\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034x600.jpg?fit=788%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"788,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p034x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034x600.jpg?fit=263%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034x600.jpg?fit=625%2C476&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9669\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034x600.jpg?resize=625%2C476&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"625\" height=\"476\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034x600.jpg?w=788&amp;ssl=1 788w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034x600.jpg?resize=263%2C200&amp;ssl=1 263w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p034x600.jpg?resize=624%2C475&amp;ssl=1 624w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 625px) 100vw, 625px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>The Two Moons of Tranquillia<\/em><\/strong> by Arthur Leo Zagat starts with a military man called George Carson visiting his old newspaperman boss \u201cPop.\u201d Carson is a widower and has placed his child Pete (for the duration of the war) with a couple he found from a newspaper advertisement so he could serve in the war. However, he points out to Pop that the ad has appeared again, and he doesn\u2019t understand why as he knows the couple do not have room for more children. The pair examine Pete\u2019s letters to his father and note various similarities\u2014it is as if parts of the letters have been copied from\u00a0earlier ones. The two decide to go to the couple\u2019s house to investigate, and a female reporter called Helen Clark is roped in (she is Pop\u2019s divorcee daughter and has a daughter Kay that they can use in their cover story).<br \/>\nOn the journey out George and Helen are in the back of the car and the Kay is in the front. George and Helen do not get on and they argue about the war, and what can be said in front of the children:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>[George] laughed, shortly, bitterly. \u201cWhat have I now to show my son, to bring home to him? \u2018Congratulate your old man, Pete. Today I dropped a depthbomb and blasted a submarine\u2014\u2019\u201d<br \/>\n\u201cGee!\u201d Kay broke in, wide-eyed. \u201cGee, did you? That\u2019s swell. Was it a German one?\u201d<br \/>\n\u201cKay! You\u2014\u201d<br \/>\n\u201cNo, Mrs. Clark. It\u2019s no use.\u201d George came around to her daughter, his lips\u2014only his lips\u2014smiling. \u201cYes, it was a German, Kay. We know, because some things came up to the top of the water, splintered wood, shattered\u2014 Well, things that float.<br \/>\n\u201cOne was a kit box that must have belonged to one of the sailors. It was watertight and among the other things in it there was a picture of a blonde little girl, about your age only she had a little button of a nose and pigtails. On the picture was written, \u2018Komm bald demem Elsa zuruck, Vater,\u2019 which in English means, \u2018Come back soon to your Elsa, father,\u2019 but Elsa\u2019s father won\u2019t ever come back to her because I killed him. Isn\u2019t that a pity?\u201d<br \/>\nKay nodded, speechless for once. \u201cOh,\u201d<br \/>\nGeorge exclaimed. \u201cI forgot! We\u2019re certain it was that very submarine which torpedoed the ship that had almost brought the little boy I was talking about safe to America. It might even have been Elsa\u2019s father who aimed the torpedo.\u201d<br \/>\n\u201cThat\u2019s different. I\u2019m glad you killed him. I\u2019m awful glad.\u201d<br \/>\nThere was an incoherent sound in Helen\u2019s throat, then\u2014 \u201cYou\u2014 You\u2019re despicable, George Carson!\u201d<br \/>\nHe swung back to her. \u201cOf course I am. So are we all. We\u2019re all trapped in a despicable, brutal world and there\u2019s no escape, no longer the slightest possibility of escape for me or you or Kay or Pete\u2014Pete,\u201d he repeated, the name a groan, and he sank back into his corner, hands closing into tight fists on his thighs.\u00a0 p. 40-41<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>When they get near to the house they stop, and the two men go to reconnoitre. On the way there they see Pete\u2019s abandoned model plane, and note it has been there for some time.<br \/>\nWhen they finally get to the house the three adults meet the Barretts, an elderly and kindly couple it seems, and what appears like a normal house, albeit one with the inventor husband\u2019s high tech kitchen. As they are leaving at the end of their visit, Pop challenges the husband, John Barratt, about Peter when they are\u00a0interrupted by rumbling noises and vibrations. It turns out that Kay has triggered a mechanism in one of the house\u2019s small rooms and vanished. John Barrett passes out in the confusion.<br \/>\nThe three go back into the house and find the mechanism that caused Kay to vanish. They flick the switch\u2014and find themselves\u00a0transported to what seems like a dark cave, where they find Kay. When they try to operate the mechanism to return they find it doesn\u2019t work, and so they make their way out of the cave to find it is night outside. The sky is filled with strange constellations.<br \/>\nUp until this point the story isn\u2019t bad but the second half isn\u2019t as good. In this part they hear singing, which leads them to a village full of children where they find Pete. When they question him they find out that the village, called Tranquillia, appears to be a utopian experiment set up by the elderly couple. John Barrett turns up at the end of the chapter and we get a lot of talking heads about the invention that brought them here, and the non-violent utopia they are trying to set up. There are one or two more gimmicks and twists, and some preaching\/changing of hearts before the end. These latter events are not really credible and smack of wishful thinking.<br \/>\nIt is an interesting piece for its utopian\/pacifistic viewpoint, but not a great story.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p064.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9671\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9671\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p064x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p064x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p064x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p064x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9671\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p064x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p064x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p064x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>Say a Prayer for Harvey<\/em><\/strong> by John J. Wallace is a short squib that tells of a psychologist\u2019s patient who can mentally transport himself\u00a0anywhere he can imagine. After the psychologist receives a couple of demonstrations (the patient vanishes and later reappears with evidence), he provides a suggestion to deal with the patient\u2019s dominating wife. Pleasant enough but very slight.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p070.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9675\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9675\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p070x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p070x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p070x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p070x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9675\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p070x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p070x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p070x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>Bindings Deluxe<\/em><\/strong> by David H. Keller is the first of two pieces in the magazine that are somewhat problematical. The story starts with two men in a Turkish bathhouse where, during the course of their conversation, we find that both are bookbinders and that the older man deeply dislikes women. As they are talking the narrator sees something odd on the older man\u2019s back (see the illustration above) and decides to pursue his acquaintance after they leave the baths to discover the story behind it.<br \/>\nWhen the narrator later visits the older man at his home we get more misogynistic comments before he tells the story of how he got the tattoo on his back. He begins with an account of an international bookbinding association he founded in his younger years which, at one point and against his will, admitted a female member who later became an object of mockery when she delivered a talk on bookbinding using citations from Encyclopaedia Britannica. In subsequent years fewer and fewer of the bookbinders appear at the annual meetings. . . .<br \/>\nAfter doing some detective work, the older man later discovers they all went to Spain before disappearing\u2014and then gets a letter inviting him there too! He soon finds himself being seduced in the home of the female bookbinder.<br \/>\nThis is all rather ridiculous, but if you can ignore is flaws you will be rewarded with an entertainingly grisly ending and a nice last line. I\u2019ll be interested to see what <em>Weird Tales<\/em>\u2019 many female readers have to say about this one in future letter columns.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p076.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9677\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9677\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p076x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p076x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p076x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p076x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"size-full wp-image-9677 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p076x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p076x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p076x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>The other problematical piece is <strong><em>Seventh Sister<\/em><\/strong> by Mary Elizabeth Counselman, which depicts a poor black family in the Deep South. The mother is in labour with the seventh sister of the tale, while the father is passed out drunk\u00a0on the kitchen floor. There are multiple references in the story to \u201cpickaninnies,\u201d \u201cdarkies,\u201d \u201cnegroes,\u201d and a couple of \u201cniggers\u201d thrown in as well. That said, the latter epithet is used between the black family and friends in reference to themselves, and Counselman\u2019s tale is, apart from its racist language and stereotypical viewpoint, not unsympathetic to the family or the albino seventh sister (who, ironically, is\u00a0the outcast of the piece).<br \/>\nThe tale itself has a spooky beginning:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>That night a squinch-owl hollered. And somewhere beyond the state highway, a dog howled three times. More than that, one of the martins, nesting in the gourd-pole in front of the cabin, got into the house and beat its brains out against the walls before anyone could set it free.<br \/>\nThree Signs! Small wonder that at sundown Mattie Sue was writhing in agony of premature childbirth. Not even the two greased axes, which Ressie and Clarabelle\u2014her oldest unmarried daughters, aged fifteen and seventeen\u2014had placed under her bed to cut the pain, did any good.<br \/>\n\u201cOh, Lawsy\u2014Mammy done took bad!\u201d Ressie whimpered.<br \/>\nShe hovered over the fat groaning black woman on the bed, eyewhites large and frightened in her pretty negro face. Ressie had seen many of her brothers and sisters come into the world. But always before, Mattie Sue had borne as easily and naturally as a cat.\u00a0 p. 77<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>During the birth the mother dies and the child is shunned, not only because of the death of the mother but because the daughter is also albino, and a seventh sister, which latter supposedly gives it conjure magic powers. The midwives tell the elder sister to hide the baby in the corn crib and feed it goat\u2019s milk. This state of affairs persists until the white landowner Cap\u2019n Jim intervenes, and then the child is at least partially included in the family.<br \/>\nThis state of affairs persists throughout her early years,\u00a0but her situation worsens one day when she points at a bird while playing a shooting game with the other children: the bird plummets to the ground, bloodied. Later, as word of her powers gets around, a trade in mojos (charms) develops, but this later backfires when her father hears of one sold to an acquaintance without him seeing the money. He pursues her, and tries to beat her, which causes him to double over in pain. Cap\u2019n Jim arrives and reckons Dody has appendicitis, and rushes him to the hospital.<br \/>\nThe rest of the story (spoiler) pivots around an act of kindness by Cap\u2019n Jim, when he quiets the girl\u2019s nervousness on Dody\u2019s return from hospital and also gives her a toy doll. Later she attempts to repay the favour (unknown to Cap\u2019n Jim) by creating a conjure\/voodoo doll of his troublesome mother-in-law, whose interference will upset Jim\u2019s life and lead to\u00a0the eviction of seventh sister\u2019s family.<br \/>\nThe story has a doubly tragic ending.<br \/>\nI rather liked some parts of this colourful tale\u2014sections reminded me of Manly Wade Wellman\u2019s later fantasy work\u2014but some may struggle to get past its language and viewpoint.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9679\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9679\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088x600.jpg?fit=786%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"786,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p088x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088x600.jpg?fit=262%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088x600.jpg?fit=625%2C477&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9679\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088x600.jpg?resize=625%2C477&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"625\" height=\"477\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088x600.jpg?w=786&amp;ssl=1 786w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088x600.jpg?resize=262%2C200&amp;ssl=1 262w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p088x600.jpg?resize=624%2C476&amp;ssl=1 624w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 625px) 100vw, 625px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>The Eager Dragon<\/em><\/strong> by Robert Bloch starts with the narrator in a bar getting drunk:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>Now I am not the type of personality who pries into other people\u2019s affairs. Particularly in a place like this, where it is not safe to shake hands with strangers unless you have heavy insurance on your fingers.<br \/>\nSo after gulping my sixth anti-freeze, I slide off the stool to go home. I do not intend to speak to these jerks, but one of them turns around and gabbles at me.<br \/>\n\u201cI beg your pardon,\u201d he says, very polite. \u201cBut you have your foot caught in a cuspidor.\u201d<br \/>\nIf there is anything I\u2019m a sucker for, it\u2019s politeness. Besides, when I look down I see that I have indeed stuck my left foot into one of Thin Tommy\u2019s finger-bowls.<br \/>\n\u201cThank you for the information,\u201d I tell the stranger. \u201cI hardly notice such a thing because I expect to walk a little funny after drinking the stuff they serve here.\u201d<br \/>\n\u201cIt is vile, isn\u2019t it?\u201d says the first stranger. \u201cWon\u2019t you have another one with me?\u201d<br \/>\nWell, who can refuse such a courteous invitation? I sit down again and manage to get my Thom McCan out of the cigarpond, and the two strangers pour me a shot, and before you can say Jack Robinson I am too stinko to pronounce it.<br \/>\nThat is how it happens I get so gabby, I guess.\u00a0 p. 89<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>After the two strangers (who are travelling book salesmen) complain about how boring the town is, the narrator takes offence and tells the men about a recent visit to his farm by a time-travelling knight who left his war-horse behind. When he takes the pair home to see it they find a huge egg instead. In their alcoholic stupor it seems like a good idea to sleep on the egg to hatch it. A dragon subsequently emerges and, after the threesome concludes a deal to exploit the commercial opportunities of the creature, the two salesmen leave to contact circus owners in the city.<br \/>\nThe rest of this admittedly corny but entertaining story involves a precocious runaway child called Edgar, and the care and feeding of dragons, which requires massive quantities of beer and thus involves Tommy, the local gangster barman, who makes many deliveries and becomes increasingly suspicious. The child is kept around as he may reveal the secret, and the gangster barman may decide to acquire the dragon for himself if he finds out about it:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>Thin Tommy just grunts. It is a normal sound, because he is built like a hog, with a strain of wild boar. He is called Thin Tommy because he weighs in at 300 pounds on the latest police blotter. Besides being a very unpleasant hunk of lard to look at, he is also an unpleasant personality to do business with. He runs his tavern, but also throws the scare into local yokels so they pay him protection money in these parts. In fact, Thin Tommy is what is vulgarly termed a hoodlum. My own term for him would be about twenty years.\u00a0 p. 97<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>Meanwhile, the dragon gets bigger and bigger, and produces proportionally more flames.<br \/>\nMatters develop to a climactic scene which (spoiler) involves the child\u2019s identity and his subsequent kidnap by Thin Tommy, and the narrator and Herman the dragon going to the rescue. The fate of the dragon provides a weak ending to what was, until that point, quite a good story.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p105.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9681\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9681\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p105x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p105x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p105x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p105x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9681\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p105x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p105x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p105x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>McElwin\u2019s Glass<\/em><\/strong> by August Derleth is about a man called McElwin who buys a telescope from a curio shop and discovers that it lets him look forward and backward in time. He gives up his stage show as a magician and becomes a fortune-teller. However, McElwin soon notices that he cannot foretell everyone\u2019s future, and some of the scenes show a missing figure (there is only the bride visible in one marriage scene for instance). Cue an elderly distant relative who visits and explains to McElwin that the telescope will only show the futures of people related or connected to him in some way. Moreover the old man cautions that McElwin should give up the telescope and take another path in life. When the old man is rebuffed, he asks that McElwin leave the telescope to him in his will. You\u2019d think that this latter request would raise a red flag for McElwin but he blunders on.<br \/>\nThe rest of the story (spoiler) involves his marriage to a wealthy heiress who quickly turns into the bane of his life. One day she badgers him when he has just finished cleaning his target pistol (bad timing). McElwin flees the crime scene, and a police pursuit and a terminal leap from a train follow.<br \/>\nThis is a contrived piece with an idiot protagonist.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p112.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9683\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9683\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p112x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p112x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p112x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p112x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9683 aligncenter\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p112x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p112x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p112x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>Repayment <\/em><\/strong>by Seabury Quinn has an unnecessary set-up page where Gans Field, his wife, and a friend are having dinner in New York during an evening in the Fall. Field launches into a story about an entitled and vaguely unpleasant ex-pat in Algiers who invites a snake charmer into his house to perform. After the performance the ex-pat grabs the snake charmer\u2019s instrument and plays a tune to make the snakes dance. The snake charmer tells him the snakes resent \u201cwrong charming\u201d and (spoiler) will repay him with death\u2014and so they do.<br \/>\nThis is a short and too straightforward setup\/resolution story, but some of the parts are not bad:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>At college it was pretty much the same. If Dirk didn\u2019t make Phi Beta Kappa he did make Rho Tau Epsilon, which had a lot more social significance, and to whose chapter house his father gave a completely equipped indoor squash court. When several of the boys blind-dated chorus girls and Dirk found that the femme he\u2019d drawn possessed less charm and beauty than the belle his roommate had he calmly exchanged partners, and his roommate, mindful of the loans he\u2019d made and those he hoped to make in future, registered no complaint. Neither did the girl. She knew which side her bread was buttered on and had the not unusual feminine desire to spread some sugar on the butter.\u00a0 p. 114<\/p>\n<p>Above the basket\u2019s open top something had risen like a nervous jack-in-the-box that jerked from sight almost as soon as it inhaled the outside air. Yet in the fleeting fraction of a second that it showed Vanlderstein had seen the glimmer of a pair of little bead-bright eyes, the outlines of a cone-shaped head and the quick flicker of a forked tongue. A chill of sudden vague, indefinite fear went rippling up his spine, beginning at the small of his back and continuing until he felt the short hair on his neck commence to rise and bristle like the hackles of a startled dog. There was a chilled sensation in his forearms, and little pits of goose-flesh dimpled in his skin. The age-old fear of every mammal for the serpent had laid hold on him.\u00a0 p. 116<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p002.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9659\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9659\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p002x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p002x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p002x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p002x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9659\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p002x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p002x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p002x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>The eye-catching <strong><em>Cover<\/em><\/strong> is by A. R. Tilburne, who also contributes a couple of interior illustrations (the first is merely okay but the one for the Quinn story is quite good). I liked nearly all the other <strong><em>Interior artwork<\/em><\/strong>, the best of which is by Boris Dolgov. His illustration for the Derleth is probably the best, but I also liked his double spread for the Bloch (it\u2019s the first humorous piece of his I can remember seeing, and it strikes me that this could have happily appeared alongside Edd Cartier&#8217;s in <em>Unknown<\/em>). His piece for the Zagat story would have been better without drawing John Barrett as a KKK member (not in the story). I note in passing that Dolgov\u2019s work in this issue was what made me pick up this number and read it, and he is now one of my 1944 Retro Hugo nominations.<br \/>\nOf the others, I particularly liked both the Knight piece for the Counselman story, and the uncredited piece for the Wallace.<br \/>\n<strong><em>The Shape of Thrills to Come<\/em><\/strong> is a better attempt than usual of a \u201cComing Soon\u201d feature (usually a couple of hurriedly written paragraphs):<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p004.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9661\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9661\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p004x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p004x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p004x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p004x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9661\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p004x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p004x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p004x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>After an Air Raid<\/em><\/strong> by Dorothy Quick is a short verse about the death of two lovers and how they meet up in the afterlife.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9673\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9673\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068x600.jpg?fit=788%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"788,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p068x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068x600.jpg?fit=263%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068x600.jpg?fit=625%2C476&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9673\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068x600.jpg?resize=625%2C476&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"625\" height=\"476\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068x600.jpg?w=788&amp;ssl=1 788w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068x600.jpg?resize=263%2C200&amp;ssl=1 263w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p068x600.jpg?resize=624%2C475&amp;ssl=1 624w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 625px) 100vw, 625px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p><strong><em>Superstitions and Taboos<\/em><\/strong> by Irwin J. Weill comprises of two pages of illustrations and a few paragraphs of folklore (or superstitious nonsense, depending on your view of this kind of thing).<br \/>\n<strong><em>The Eyrie<\/em><\/strong> leads off with Arthur Leo Zagat\u2019s short afterword to his story, which includes this:<\/p>\n<blockquote><p>There is nothing mystic in the way <em>Two Moons<\/em> came to be written. It is the way all the hundreds of yarns that have come from my typewriter have created themselves. I find my characters among people I know, people like you, your neighbors and friends. Real people. I invent a situation for them, involve them in it, and then I sit back and watch what happens. To the persons of my stories I am demigod, creator, only in so far as I confront them with the necessity for decision and action, for all the rest I am no less aloof an observer than you, my readers. \u00a0p. 120<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>After this there is an explanation by Seabury Quinn about why there are no witches in Ireland (in response to a reader enquiry), and a short bio of new writer James Causey. There is a reader poll at bottom, but sadly no letters of comment about the content of previous issues.<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\"><a href=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p124.jpg?ssl=1\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" data-attachment-id=\"9685\" data-permalink=\"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/?attachment_id=9685\" data-orig-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p124x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" data-orig-size=\"405,600\" data-comments-opened=\"1\" data-image-meta=\"{&quot;aperture&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;credit&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;camera&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;caption&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;created_timestamp&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;copyright&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;focal_length&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;iso&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;shutter_speed&quot;:&quot;0&quot;,&quot;title&quot;:&quot;&quot;,&quot;orientation&quot;:&quot;1&quot;}\" data-image-title=\"WT194301p124x600\" data-image-description=\"\" data-image-caption=\"\" data-medium-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p124x600.jpg?fit=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1\" data-large-file=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p124x600.jpg?fit=405%2C600&amp;ssl=1\" tabindex=\"0\" role=\"button\" class=\"alignnone size-full wp-image-9685\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p124x600.jpg?resize=405%2C600&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" width=\"405\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p124x600.jpg?w=405&amp;ssl=1 405w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2019\/01\/WT194301p124x600.jpg?resize=135%2C200&amp;ssl=1 135w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 405px) 100vw, 405px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n<p>The <strong><em>Weird Tales Club<\/em><\/strong> prints three letters (two are a little flaky, being concerned with supernatural phenomena), and a list of new members which includes Hugh Hefner (<em>Playboy<\/em>) and Arthur Saha (Donald Wollheim\u2019s <em>Best of the Year<\/em> co-editor).<\/p>\n<p>I thought that this issue felt a bit musty and old-fashioned, but it has a handful of stories that are of interest.<br \/>\nPS I see that there are four Ray Bradbury stories in the next five issues, as well as Robert Bloch&#8217;s <em>Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper<\/em>, so that is something to look forward to.\u00a0 \u25cf<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: center;\">_____________________<\/p>\n<p>1. Robert Weinberg, <a href=\"https:\/\/www.amazon.co.uk\/Weird-Tales-Story-Robert-Weinberg\/dp\/1587151014\/ref=la_B000APOKCE_1_12?s=books&amp;ie=UTF8&amp;qid=1548852293&amp;sr=1-12\">The Weird Tales Story<\/a>, Wildside Press, 1977, p. 43.<\/p>\n<p>2. <a href=\"https:\/\/en.wikipedia.org\/wiki\/Flying_Tigers\">Wikipedia<\/a> says the \u201cFlying Tigers\u201d were \u201cThe First American Volunteer Group (AVG) of the Chinese Air Force in 1941\u20131942 [. . .] composed of pilots from the United States Army Air Corps (USAAC), Navy (USN), and Marine Corps (USMC), recruited under presidential authority and commanded by Claire Lee Chennault.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>3. There is\u00a0little or no information on the web about Alice-Mary Schnirring beyond her <a href=\"http:\/\/www.isfdb.org\/cgi-bin\/ea.cgi?16535\">ISFDB<\/a> entry, and a page on <a href=\"https:\/\/books.google.co.uk\/books?id=U1aJCQAAQBAJ&amp;printsec=frontcover#v=onepage&amp;q=alice-mary&amp;f=false\">Google Books<\/a> showing that Robert L. Fish dedicated his book <em>A Gross Carriage of Justice<\/em> to her: \u201cThis book is affectionately dedicated to the memory of Alice-Mary Schnirring <em>The Mouse That Roared<\/em>.\u201d<br \/>\nThis was the fourth out of six stories she contributed to <em>Weird Tales<\/em> in the early forties.\u00a0\u00a0\u25cf<\/p>\n<span class=\"synved-social-container synved-social-container-follow\"><a class=\"synved-social-button synved-social-button-follow synved-social-size-16 synved-social-resolution-normal synved-social-provider-rss nolightbox\" data-provider=\"rss\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\" title=\"Subscribe to our RSS Feed\" href=\"http:\/\/feeds.feedburner.com\/SFMagazines\" style=\"font-size: 0px;width:16px;height:16px;margin:0;margin-bottom:5px\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" alt=\"rss\" title=\"Subscribe to our RSS Feed\" class=\"synved-share-image synved-social-image synved-social-image-follow\" width=\"16\" height=\"16\" style=\"display: inline;width:16px;height:16px;margin: 0;padding: 0;border: none;box-shadow: none\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/plugins\/social-media-feather\/synved-social\/image\/social\/regular\/16x16\/rss.png?resize=16%2C16&#038;ssl=1\" \/><\/a><a class=\"synved-social-button synved-social-button-follow synved-social-size-16 synved-social-resolution-hidef synved-social-provider-rss nolightbox\" data-provider=\"rss\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"nofollow\" title=\"Subscribe to our RSS Feed\" href=\"http:\/\/feeds.feedburner.com\/SFMagazines\" style=\"font-size: 0px;width:16px;height:16px;margin:0;margin-bottom:5px\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" alt=\"rss\" title=\"Subscribe to our RSS Feed\" class=\"synved-share-image synved-social-image synved-social-image-follow\" width=\"16\" height=\"16\" style=\"display: inline;width:16px;height:16px;margin: 0;padding: 0;border: none;box-shadow: none\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/sfmagazines.com\/wp-content\/plugins\/social-media-feather\/synved-social\/image\/social\/regular\/32x32\/rss.png?resize=16%2C16&#038;ssl=1\" \/><\/a><\/span>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>ISFDB link Archive.org link _____________________ Editor, Dorothy McIlwraith; Associate Editor, Lamont Buchanan Fiction: Quest of a Noble Tiger \u2022 short story by Frank Owen \u2217 The Statue \u2022 short story by James Causey \u2217 One-Man Boat \u2022 short story by Alice-Mary Schnirring \u2217\u2217\u2217 The Two Moons of Tranquillia \u2022 novelette by Arthur Leo Zagat \u2217 [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9651","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-weird-tales"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6Pcj7-2vF","jetpack-related-posts":[],"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9651","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=9651"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9651\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":9689,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9651\/revisions\/9689"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=9651"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=9651"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sfmagazines.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=9651"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}