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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..646f710 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64915 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64915) diff --git a/old/64915-0.txt b/old/64915-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 07210e0..0000000 --- a/old/64915-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1342 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fantasy Fan, Volume 1, Number 11, July -1934, by Charles D. Hornig - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Fantasy Fan, Volume 1, Number 11, July 1934 - The Fan's Own Magazine - -Author: Charles D. Hornig - -Release Date: March 24, 2021 [eBook #64915] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FANTASY FAN, VOLUME 1, NUMBER -11, JULY 1934 *** - - - - - THE FANTASY FAN - - THE FANS' OWN MAGAZINE - - Published - Monthly - - Editor: Charles D. Hornig - (Managing Editor: Wonder Stories) - - 10 cents a copy - $1.00 per year - - 137 West Grand Street, - Elizabeth, New Jersey - - Volume 1 - July, 1934 - Number 11 - - [Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any - evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - AN APOLOGY - -On page 143 of our May issue, we published an article entitled "About -H. G. Wells." According to the byline, it was written by Daniel -McPhail. The author was R. H. Barlow. We wish to apologize to R. H. -Barlow, Daniel McPhail, and our readers, for this mistake, and suggest -that contributors always sign their articles in the future to avoid -these mixups. - - * * * * * - - - OUR READERS SAY - -"Some will perhaps wonder what I precisely meant, in my dialog in the -May issue, when my character, Sidney, exclaimed, "And if scribes could -only emulate Smith or Lovecraft or Howard!" I meant, of course, that -writers should strive to these three in _greatness_--but a greatness -of a different sort. For there can only be _one_ Clark Ashton Smith, -_one_ H. P. Lovecraft, _one_ Robert E. Howard. But the aspiring writer -can always form himself on a good model; and in time, he will find -his _own_ individuality. I wish to see another tale by Eando Binder, -as well as a story by J. Harvey Haggard, and more poetry by William -Lumley."--Robert Nelson - -"I find the June FANTASY FAN interesting. This story is really -good, the one by H. P. Lovecraft. Science in a weird atmosphere, -'From Beyond;' interesting, and the story worked out completely -satisfactorily. This will probably horrify a number of readers, but as -far as I know, this is the first story I have ever liked by Lovecraft; -but I like it very well. The word wanderings of 'Prose Pastels' number -three are a bit entrancing. F. Lee Baldwin seems worth his increased -column."--Forrest J. Ackerman - -"The June FANTASY FAN contained everything that goes to make a magazine -successful--I need not list the splendid array of stories and articles -that you have somehow condensed into one issue."--Duane W. Rimel - -"The June number was very well done. In addition to my old stand-bys -Lovecraft and Smith, I was pleased with Haggard's little note on -'Books of the Weird.' I'd like to see more of such articles. 'Weird -Whisperings' is one of my favorite columns."--H. Koenig - -"Enjoyed the latest FANTASY FAN--an excellent issue. The cover of -different colour adds to the effect."--H. P. Lovecraft - -"Please print only short stories, the shorter the better, and no -serials. Also give us a greater variety of authors. Let's have poetry -in every issue, but not too much of Smith's heavy ones. All eight -pieces printed so far have been fine! Very glad to see the way you're -encouraging amateurs."--William H. Dellenback - -"I wish to commend Mr. Lumley's remarkable poem, 'Shadows,' in the May -TFF. This poem seems to have in it all the mystic immemorial anguish -and melancholy of China. The quatrain, 'Dragons,' is a vivid picture -too. I enjoyed 'Phantom Lights,' 'The Flower God,' and the various -departments--in fact, the entire contents of the magazine."--Clark -Ashton Smith - -"The June issue of THE FANTASY FAN was great! I enjoyed immensely -the fine tale by H. P. Lovecraft, 'From Beyond.' It was extremely -well-written and lacked nothing in my estimation. I hope that I shall -enjoy many more of Mr. Lovecraft's splendid stories."--Fred John Walsen - -"I note in 'Weird Whisperings' that Seabury Quinn gets most of his -plots while shaving. According to the looks of things in 'Weird -Tales,' Mr. Quinn is sporting a long, long beard. Also in 'Weird -Whisperings' the nassysnoopers are revealing the real names of authors. -Now--febbensake--why do writers use _nom-de-plumes_ if they let the -readers know their real names? What can be the use of pen-names in -such a case? As for 'Prose Pastels,' I must say I'm going to offer -my first criticism to Clark Ashton Smith. After reading 'The Muse of -Hyperborea,' I sez to myself, 'I'll bite! What is it?' You tell me--I -can't figure it out. Another thing I must slam Mr. Smith for is his use -of obsolete and rare words. Not that I don't enjoy them--they make the -stories so much more--so-so--but I dunno what they mean--my dictionary -is pretty big--but doesn't contain all those words."--Gertrude Hemken - -"The June 1934 FANTASY FAN is pleasing to the eyes with its bright -yellow cover. Please make Lovecraft's 'Supernatural Horror in -Literature' at least four pages long. 'Side Glances' and 'Weird -Whisperings' are interesting. You ought to discontinue 'Your Views,' -since it offers nothing of value."--Charles H. Bert - -"I was sure pleased with this month's TFF, and I especially liked -'Prose Pastels' by Clark Ashton Smith; also 'From Beyond' by H. P. -Lovecraft. Glad to see you are going to print such fine material as -is unjustifiably rejected by other magazines. Some of the real gems -of literature are sometimes never printed professionally, but thanks -to semi-amateur magazines like TFF, the efforts of an author is not -entirely lost. Let's have more by Mr. Lovecraft. Schwartz and Weisinger -have certainly been around quite a bit lately. Their stuff is brand new -and very interesting as well as amazing."--F. Lee Baldwin - - * * * * * - - Subscribe to TFF - - * * * * * - - - WEIRD WHISPERINGS - - by Schwartz and Weisinger - -Seabury Quinn returns to _Weird Tales_ in the September issue with the -latest Jules de Grandin thriller, "The Jest of Warburg Tantavul".... In -prospect for publication in _Weird_ in the near future, but not as yet -scheduled, are two stories of brain transplantation by Bassett Morgan, -entitled "The Vengeance of Fi Fong" and "Black Bagheela," with great -apes and sinister Chinamen springing out of every corner to horrify and -amaze the reader.... All of H. P. Lovecraft's tales are sold to WT with -the understanding that nothing whatever is to be changed in them.... -"The Waning of a World" by W. Elwyn Backus, an old _Weird Tales_ -serial, was reprinted in _Aviation & Mechanics_ under the title "A Leap -to Mars." - -The "Weird Tales" radio program announced some time ago in the Eyrie, -has not been given up, but the Hollywood Radio Attractions, Inc., -which is handling the broadcasts and the making of the electrical -transcriptions, ran into difficulties in trying to get sponsors for -the program. However, they are pressing forward in a drive to obtain -sponsors in all the various districts.... Paul Ernst, who is about 33 -years old, has sold over 300 stories to more than 50 magazines since -1926.... A serial novel set in the Sahara Desert, entitled "Rulers of -the Future," written by Ernst, is slated for publication in _Weird_ -next winter.... The tale of a mild-appearing, bespectacled American -physicist who in a few days forced the world to destroy its armaments -and agree to perpetual peace is narrated in S. Gordon Gurwitt's next -_Weird Tales'_ story "The Golden Glow." - -Mysterious letters postmarked from Washington, D. C., consisting of -two mimeographed pages bearing the title "The Battle that Ended the -Century" have been received by several well-known fantasy authors, -editors and fans. It is a satire, and the character's names are those -of popular people in the fantasy field, being thinly veiled. Seabury -Quinn wrote Farnsworth Wright that if he didn't know that he lived in -Chicago he'd swear that Wright had written them. Frank Belknap Long, -Jr. feels confident that they were authored by H. P. Lovecraft who -is now touring in the South. "I'm too well acquainted with Howard's -(Howard Lovecraft) style," he declared, "to mistake it. It's just a -gag...." - -"The Distortion out of Space" by Francis Flagg, an ingenious tale of -the fourth dimension to appear in the August WT, has a very strange -illustration by Harold R. Hammond.... The same number will contain -a weird-scientific story by Frank Belknap Long Jr., entitled "The -Beast-Helper," a story based on the craze for dictatorships that is -epidemic in Europe just now.... Long, Jr., has crashed _Astounding -Stories_ with "The Last Men," to appear in the August number.... On -hand for a coming issue of _Weird_ is "Yellow Doom" by Robert H. -Leitfred, a smashing, quick-moving tale on the old theme of an oriental -despot who by his mastery of science tries to make himself ruler of the -world. - - * * * * * - - - THE END OF "SCOOPS" - -Hugo Gernsback recently received the following letter from L. B. -Silvester, the founder of "Scoops," the first English all-stf magazine -that we've been hearing so much about. - -"In October of last year, I got at the board of Messrs. C. Arthur -Pearson, Ltd., of London, one of our big publishing houses. With -your magazine as an example, I strove to convince the powers that -be. They finally made a compromise--they would turn out an ambiguous -sort of cheap weekly which could assume definite adult or juvenile -characteristics upon receipt of those indications which a few months of -circulation would give. - -"A putrid sort of thing suffering under the name of SCOOPS was what -resulted. Together, Mr. F. Hadyn Dimock and myself tried to do what -was right and what the board wanted at the same time. I wrote a story -and some short articles every week; he did the editing. Finally we got -the board's consent for this form, but it was too late. The frivolous -name condemned it and the fact that in fifteen weeks it had picked up -a reputation for blood-and-thunder which it could never have lived -down. We asked for more money to re-launch it in the form we had first -visualized, but we were refused! The paper had failed. Britain's first -and only scientifiction paper had failed within four months of its -inception, and this in face of the fact that nowadays science has an -interest, to some extent, for everyone, and is to be found on the -screen and stage, and in the daily press." - - * * * * * - - - WITHIN THE CIRCLE - - by F. Lee Baldwin - -R. H. Barlow is a very talented youth. He is a pianist, painter, -sculptor in clay, landscape gardener and book collector. He has -completed a clay bas-relief of Cthulhu and a statuette of Ganesa, the -Hindoo Elephant God. One of his favorite bindings for his books is -snake skin. He shoots many snakes around his home in Florida and tans -the skin. - -"The Last Hieroglyph" by Clark Ashton Smith, which is scheduled in WT -is the last of a series of stories of the fabulous land of Zothique. -The first of the series was "The Empire of Necromancers." WT has -on hand another story of Zothique--"The Dark Eidolon".... William -Crawford, Editor of Marvel Tales, holds for publication "The Coming of -the White Worm." It may be issued in a separate booklet. This is the -first chapter of The Book of Eibon. - -Do you remember Loretta Burrough who wrote "Creeping Fingers"? She has -a yarn titled "What Waits in Darkness" slated for a future WT. - -H. P. Lovecraft is touring the South. He is making Savannah, St. -Augustine, Charleston, and other places that were founded in the -_early_ days of this country, and also visiting R. H. Barlow of De -Land, Fla. - -Clark Ashton Smith wrote and published at 17 a book of poems called -"The Star Trader." - - * * * * * - - - The Epiphany of Death - - by Clark Ashton Smith - - (Dedicated to H. P. Lovecraft) - -I find it peculiarly difficult to express the exact nature of the -sentiment which Tomeron had always evoked in me. However, I am sure -that the feeling never partook, at any time, of what is ordinarily -known as friendship. It was a compound of unusual esthetic and -intellectual elements, and was somehow closely allied in my thoughts -with the same fascination that has drawn me ever since early childhood -toward all things that are remote in space and time, or which have -about them the irresolvable twilight of antiquity. Somehow, Tomeron -seemed never to belong to the present; but one could readily have -imagined him as living in some bygone age. About him, there was nothing -whatever of the lineaments of our own period; and he even went so far -as to affect in his costume an approximation to the garments that were -worn several centuries ago. His complexion was extremely pale and -cadaverous, and he stooped heavily from poring over ancient tomes and -no less ancient maps. He moved always with the slow, meditative pace -of one who dwells among far-off reveries and memories; and he spoke -often of people and events and ideas that have long been forgotten. -For the most part, he was apparently unheedful of present things; and -I felt that for him the huge city of Ptolemides, in which we both -dwelt, with all its manifold clamor and tumult, was little more -than a labyrinth of painted vapors. Oddly enough, there was a like -vagueness in the attitude of others toward Tomeron; and though he had -always been accepted without question as a representative of the noble -and otherwise extinct family from which he claimed descent, nothing -appeared to be known about his actual birth and antecedents. With two -servants, who were both deaf-mutes, who were very old and who likewise -wore the raiment of a former age, he lived in the semi-ruinous mansion -of his ancestors, where, it was said, none of the family had dwelt for -many generations. There he pursued the occult and recondite studies -that were so congenial to his mind; and there, at certain intervals, I -was wont to visit him. - -I cannot recall the precise date and circumstances of the beginning -of my acquaintance with Tomeron. Though I come of a hardy line that -is noted for the sanity of its constitution, my faculties have been -woefully shaken by the horror of the happening with which that -acquaintance ended. My memory is not what it was, and there are -certain lacunae, for which my readers must contrive to forgive me. The -only wonder is, that my powers of recollection have survived at all, -beneath the hideous burden they have had to bear; for, in a more than -metaphoric sense, I have been as one condemned to carry with him at all -times and in all places the loathsome incubus of things long dead and -corrupt. - -I can readily recall, however, the studies to which Tomeron had -devoted himself, the lost demonian volumes from Hyperborea and Mu and -Atlantis with which his library shelves were heaped to the ceiling, -and the queer charts, not of any land that lies above the surface of -the earth, on which he pored by perpetual candle-light. I shall not -speak of these studies, for they would seem too fantastic and too -macabre for credibility; and that which I have to relate is incredible -enough in itself. I shall speak, however, of certain strange ideas -with which Tomeron was much pre-occupied, and concerning which he so -often discoursed to me in that deep, guttural and monotonous voice -of his, that had the reverberation of unsounded caverns in its tones -and cadences. He maintained that life and death were not the fixed -conditions that people commonly believed them to be; that the two -realms were often intermingled in ways not readily discerned, and had -penumbral borderlands; that the dead were not always dead, nor the -living, as such terms are habitually understood. But the manner in -which he spoke of those ideas was extremely vague and general; and -I could never induce him to specify his meaning or to proffer some -concrete illustration that would render it intelligible to a mentality -such as mine, that was unused to dealing in the cobwebs of abstraction. -Behind his words, there hovered, or seemed to hover, a legion of dark, -amorphous images that I could never formulate or depict to myself in -any way, till the fatal denouement of our descent into the catacombs -of Ptolemides. - -I have already said that my feeling for Tomeron was never anything -that could be classified as friendship. But even from the first, I -was well aware that Tomeron had a curious fondness for me--a fondness -whose nature I could not comprehend, and with which I could hardly even -sympathize. Though he fascinated me at all times, there were occasions -when my interest was not un-alloyed with a sense of actual repulsion. -At whiles, his pallor was _too_ cadaverous, too suggestive of fungi -that have grown in the dark, or of leprous bones by moonlight; and -the stoop of his shoulders conveyed to my brain the idea that they -bore a burden of centuries through which no man could conceivably have -lived. He aroused always a certain awe in me; and the awe was sometimes -mingled with an indeterminate fear. - -I do not remember how long our acquaintance had continued; but I do -remember that he spoke with increasing frequency, toward the end, of -those bizarre ideas at which I have hinted. Also, I felt that he was -troubled about something, for he often looked at me with a mournful -gleam in his hollow eyes; and sometimes he would speak, with peculiar -stress, of the great regard that he had for me. And one night he said: - -"Theolus, the time is coming when you must know the truth--must know -me as I am, and not as I have been permitted to seem. There is a term -to all things, and all things are obedient to inexorable laws. I would -that it were otherwise, but neither I nor any man, among the living -or among the dead, can lengthen at will the term of any state or -condition of being, or alter the laws that decree such conditions." - -Perhaps it was well that I did not understand him, and that I was -unable to attach much importance to his words or to the singular -intentness of his bearing as he uttered them. For a few more days, I -was spared the knowledge which I now carry. Then, one evening, Tomeron -spoke thus: - -"I am now compelled to ask an odd favor of you, which I hope you will -grant me, in consideration of our long friendship. The favor is, that -you accompany me this very night to those vaults of my family which lie -in the catacombs of Ptolemides." - -Though much surprised by the request, and not altogether pleased, I was -nevertheless unable to deny him. I could not imagine the purpose of -such a visit as the one proposed; but, as was my wont, I forebore to -interrogate Tomeron, and merely told him that I would accompany him to -the vaults if such were his desire. - -"I thank you, Theolus, for this proof of friendship," he replied -earnestly. "Believe me, I am loath to ask it; but there has been a -certain deception, an odd misunderstanding which cannot go on any -longer. Tonight, you will know the truth." - -Carrying torches, we left the mansion of Tomeron and sought the ancient -catacombs of Ptolemides, which lie beyond the walls and have long been -disused, for there is now a fine necropolis in the very heart of the -city. The moon had gone down beyond the desert that encroaches toward -the catacombs; and we were forced to light our torches long before we -came to the subterranean adits; for the rays of Mars and Jupiter in a -sodden and funereal sky were not enough to illumine the perilous path -we followed among mounds and fallen obelisks and broken graves. At -length we discovered the dark and weed-choked entrance of the charnels; -and here Tomeron led the way with a swiftness and surety of footing -that bespoke long familiarity with the place. - -Entering, we found ourselves in a crumbling passage where the bones of -dilapidated skeletons were scattered amid the rubble that had fallen -from the sides and roof. A choking stench of stagnant air and of -age-old corruption made me pause for a moment; but Tomeron scarcely -appeared to perceive it, for he strode onward, lifting his torch and -beckoning me to follow. We traversed many vaults in which mouldy bones -and verdigris-eaten sarcophagi were piled about the walls or strewn -where desecrating thieves had left them in bygone years. The air was -increasingly dank, chill and miasmal; and mephitic shadows crouched or -swayed before our torches in every niche and corner. Also, as we went -onward, the walls became more ruinous and the bones we saw on every -hand were greener with the mould of time. - -At last we rounded a sudden angle of the low cavern we were following. -Here we came to vaults that evidently belonged to some noble family, -for they were quite spacious and there was but one sarcophagus in each -vault. - -"My ancestors and my family lie here," said Tomeron. - -We reached the end of the cavern and were confronted by a blank wall. -At one side, was the final vault, in which an empty sarcophagus stood -open. The sarcophagus was wrought of the finest bronze and was richly -carven. - -Tomeron paused before the vault and turned to me. By the flickering -uncertain light, I thought that I saw a look of strange and -unaccountable distress on his features. - -"I must beg you to withdraw for a moment," he said, in a low and -sorrowful voice. "Afterwards, you can return." - -Surprised and puzzled, I obeyed his request and went slowly back along -the cavern for some distance. Then I returned to the place where I -had left him. My surprize was heightened when I found that he had -extinguished his torch and had dropped it on the threshold of the final -vault. Also, Tomeron himself was not visible anywhere. - -Entering the vault, since there was no other place where he could -have hidden himself, I looked about for him, but the room was empty. -At least, I deemed it empty till I looked again at the richly carven -sarcophagus and saw that it was now tenanted, for a cadaver lay within, -shrouded in a winding sheet of a sort that has not been used for -centuries in Ptolemides. - -I drew nigh to the sarcophagus, and peering into the face of the -cadaver, I saw that it bore a fearful and strange resemblance to the -face of Tomeron, though it was bloated and puffed with the adipocere of -death and was purple with the shadows of decay, as after long ages in a -charnel air. And looking again, I saw that it was indeed Tomeron. - -I would have screamed aloud with the horror that came upon me; but my -lips were benumbed and frozen, and I could only whisper Tomeron's name. -But as I whispered it, the lips of the cadaver seemed to part, and the -tip of its tongue protruded between them. And I thought that the tip -trembled, as if Tomeron were about to speak and answer me. But gazing -more closely I saw that the trembling was merely the movement of worms -as they twisted up and down and to and fro, and sought to crowd each -other from Tomeron's tongue. - - * * * * * - - - SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE - - (A True Experience) - - by Kenneth B. Pritchard - -I chanced to be alone at the time. I was just about to enter the -kitchen of the house. I opened the door and went in. - -I glanced over toward the gas stove near a window. Close to it a cloud -of smoke streamed upward. It had the appearance of an easy rolling mass -just expelled from the lungs of a smoker. I also compared it to a match -that had just been extinguished. In fact, I thought that a mouse had -lit one. - -I went to the stove, which had not been used for some hours, and looked -for a match recently ignited, or even for some oily substance which the -sun might have caused to smoke. - -Everything was cold. The sun had not warmed anything. No match had been -lit. But, I had seen smoke rising! - -A friend of mine saw smoke rise in front of her, also. She too, could -ascertain no reason or source. - -What then really happened? Is it some indigenous quality of the air -that was the cause? - - * * * * * - - - SUPERNATURAL HORROR IN LITERATURE - - by H. P. Lovecraft - - Part Ten - - (Copyright 1927 by W. Paul Cook) - -"Melmoth" contains scenes which even now have not lost their power -to evoke dread. It begins with a death-bed--the old miser is dying -of sheer fright because of something he has seen, coupled with a -manuscript he has read and a family portrait which hangs in an obscure -closet of his centuried home in County Wicklow. He sends to Trinity -College, Dublin, for his nephew John; and the latter upon arriving -notes many uncanny things. The eyes of the portrait in the closet glow -horribly, and twice a figure strangely resembling the portrait appears -momentarily at the door. Dread hangs over the house of the Melmoths, -one of whose ancestors, "J. Melmoth, 1646," the portrait represents. -The dying miser declares that this man--at a date slightly before -1800--is still alive. Finally the miser dies, and the nephew is told -in the will to destroy both the portrait and a manuscript to be found -in a certain drawer. Reading the manuscript, which was written late -in the seventeenth century by an Englishman named Stanton, young John -learns of a terrible incident in Spain in 1677, when the writer met a -horrible fellow-countryman and was told of how he had stared to death -a priest who tried to denounce him as one filled with fearsome evil. -Later, after meeting the man again in London, Stanton is cast into a -madhouse and visited by the stranger, whose approach is heralded by -spectral music and whose eyes have more than mortal glare. Melmoth the -Wanderer--for such is the malign visitor--offers the captive freedom -if he will take over his bargain with the Devil; but like all others -whom Melmoth has approached, Stanton is proof against temptation. -Melmoth's description of the horrors of a life in a madhouse, used to -tempt Stanton, is one of the most potent passages of the book. Stanton -is at length liberated, and spends the rest of his life tracking down -Melmoth, whose family and ancestral abode he discovers. With the family -he leaves the manuscript, which by young John's time is sadly ruinous -and fragmentary. John destroys both portrait and manuscript, but in -sleep is visited by his horrible ancestor, who leaves a black and blue -mark on his wrist. - -Young John soon afterward receives as a visitor a shipwrecked Spaniard, -Alonzo de Moncada, who has escaped from compulsory monasticism and -from the perils of the Inquisition. He has suffered horribly--and the -descriptions of his experiences under torment and in the vaults through -which he once essays escape are classic--but had the strength to resist -Melmoth the Wanderer when approached at this darkest hour in prison. -At the house of a Jew who sheltered him after his escape, he discovers -a wealth of manuscript relating other exploits of Melmoth, including -his wooing of an Indian island maiden, Immalee, who later comes to -her birthright in Spain and is known as the Donna Isidora; and of his -horrible marriage to her by the corpse of a dead anchorite at midnight -in the ruined chapel of a shunned and abhorred monastery. Moncada's -narrative to young John takes up the bulk of Maturin's four-volume -book; this disproportion being considered one of the chief technical -faults of the composition. - -At last the colloquies of John and Moncada are interrupted by the -entrance of Melmoth the Wanderer himself, his piercing eyes now fading, -and decrepitude swiftly overtaking him. The term of his bargain has -approached its end, and he has come home after a century and a half to -meet his fate. Warning all others from the room, no matter what sounds -they may hear in the night, he awaits the end alone. Young John and -Moncada hear frightful ululations, but do not intrude till silence -comes toward morning. They then find the room empty. Clayey footprints -lead out a rear door to a cliff overlooking the sea, and near the -edge of the precipice is a track indicating the forcible dragging of -some heavy body. The Wanderer's scarf is found on a crag some distance -below the brink, but nothing further is ever seen or heard of him. Such -is the story, and none can fail to notice the difference between this -modulated, suggestive, and artistically moulded horror and--to use the -words of Professor George Saintsbury--"the artful but rather jejune -rationalism of Mrs. Radcliffe, and the too often puerile extravagance, -the bad taste, and the sometimes slipshod style of Lewis." Maturin's -style in itself deserves particular praise, for its forcible directness -and vitality lift it altogether above the pompous artificialities of -which his predecessors are guilty. Professor Edith Birkhead, in her -history of the Gothic novel, justly observes that "with all his faults, -Maturin was the greatest as well as the last of the Goths." "Melmoth" -was widely read and eventually dramatised, but its late date in the -evolution of the Gothic tale deprived it of the tumultuous popularity -of "Udolpho" and "The Monk." - -(_Next month Mr. Lovecraft takes up "The Aftermath of Gothic -Fiction."_) - - * * * * * - - - DREAMS of YITH - - DUANE W. RIMEL - - I - - In distant Yith past crested, ragged peaks; - On far-flung islands lost to worldly years, - A shadow from the ancient star-void seeks - Some being which in caverns shrilly cries - A challenge; and the hairy dweller speaks - From that deep hole where slimy Sotho lies. - But when those night-winds crept about the place, - They fled--for Sotho had no human face! - - - II - - Beyond the valleys of the sun which lie - In misty chaos past the reach of time; - And brood beneath the ice as aeons fly, - Long waiting for some brighter, warmer clime; - There is a vision, as I vainly try - To glimpse the madness that must some day climb - From age-old tombs in dim dimensions hid, - And push all angles back--unseal the lid! - - - III - - Beside the city that once lived there wound - A stream of putrefaction writhing black; - Reflecting crumbling spires stuck in the ground - That glow through hov'ring mist whence no stray track - Can lead to those dead gates, where once was found - The secret that would bring the dwellers back. - And still that pitch-black current eddies by - Those silver gates of Yith to sea-beds dry. - - - IV - - On rounded turrets rising through the visne - Of cloud-veiled aeons that the Old Ones knew: - On tablets deeply worn and fingered clean - By tentacles that dreamers seldom view; - In space-hung Yith, on clammy walls obscene - That writhe and crumble and are built anew; - There is a figure carved; but God! those eyes, - That sway on fungoid stems at leaden skies! - - V - - Around the place of ancient, waiting blight; - On walls of sheerest opal rearing high, - That move as planets beckon in the night - To faded realms where nothing sane can lie; - A deathless guard tramps by in feeble light, - Emitting to the stars a sobbing cry. - But on that path where footsteps should have led - There rolled an eyeless, huge and bloated head. - - * * * * * - - - SCIENCE FICTION IN ENGLISH MAGAZINES - - by Bob Tucker - - (Series Seven) - -A late May issue of TRIUMPH carried "Invisible Charlie" by Tom -Stirling. (No reflections on you, Editor). However, the story was of -juvenile character, and the most terrible thing Invisible Charlie did -was to make a ball do funny tricks on its way from the pitcher to the -batter, Invisible Charlie himself carrying it, of course. - -Vol. 1, numbers 15 and 16 of SCOOPS presented: Two chapters of Doyle's -"Poison Belt," two of "Devilman of the Deep," and two of "Black -Vultures," leaving very little short story space. - -Number 15 had "Fighting Gas" which is self explanatory, and "The March -of the Beserks," mentioned previously. Number 16, besides the serials -already mentioned, had "The Accelerator Ray" which speeds up life, and -"Temple of Doom" which is a sort of "suspended animation" tale, with -its usual Man from the past waking in the future twist. - -The cover of 16 is "Mails by Rocket" and portrays two rockets flying -over London with the mail. - -Incidentally, although not a part of this dept., I would like to -mention that there are 'Rocket Mail' stamps on sale over there! Regular -rocket mail service is carried on in parts of Europe, and special -stamps have been issued for it. The two I have seen portray huge -rockets taking off, with long streamers of fire behind. Price is 1 mark -and 10 Groschen. - - * * * * * - - - FAMOUS FANTASY FICTION - - by Emil Petaja - -The Supernatural Omnibus, edited by Montague Summers; Doubleday Doran -Co. This remarkable collection contains thirty-six stories of the best -fantasy fiction. It is of particular interest to American readers as -most of its stories are taken from English magazines and out-of-print -books which most of us would find difficult to obtain. The introduction -is especially interesting. - -A. Conan Doyle has written several books of a scientific and weird -nature. Perhaps the best of these is "The Maracot Deep." In this story -the scientific theme predominates, until the very last chapter, in -which we find a typical _Jules de Grandin_ finis. Among the other -stories in this book, "When the Earth Screamed" is easily the best. -This book can now be had in the 75 cent reprint list. - -"Famous Mystery Stories" and "Famous Ghost Stories" both edited by J. -W. McSpadden contain many old favorites, such as O'Brien's "The Diamond -Lens," Crawford's "The Upper Berth," and de Maupassant's "Horla." You -can get these books at any public library. - -Ghosts, Grim and Gentle, edited by L. C. French; Dodd, Mead & Co. -Although many of the stories in this volume have been reprinted very -often, it is well worth reading. One of its best is "The Tractate -Middoth," by Dr. M. R. James; mentioned by Clark Ashton Smith in his -article in the February _Fantasy Fan_. - - * * * * * - - - Rider By Night - - by David H. Keller - -I asked one of the small boys playing around the schoolhouse. - -"Does Miss Belle Flowers teach here?" - -She did, and two minutes later I was in her class room, our -conversation being listened to with much interest by the twenty-odd -little boys and girls in the room. It seemed that she was expecting me, -and that I could make the examination in twenty minutes after school -was closed. So I decided to wait outside. - -It was a modern eight room consolidated country school, which seemed -to be built miles from everywhere. On one side, an old Ford car, three -buggies, and at least fifteen saddle-horses were parked. A few shabby -shrubs shivered silently in the sallow sunshine of spring. Here and -there remnants of building material told the story of the building's -recent construction. - -Walking along, I turned the corner of the building and looked toward -the west. What I saw made me walk away from the schoolhouse to a -white-haired darkey sitting on the ground propped against a wire fence. -He seemed asleep, but when I came near him, he turned to me a weasened -face with two eyes circled with the arcus senilis of the aged. - -I asked him to have a cigarette, and lit it for him; then sat down by -his side. - -"Queer place for a schoolhouse, Uncle," I said. - -"Worsen queer. Poor and hard on us." - -"How come?" - -"Quality folks put it heayr, whar land was cheap. Peers like they -didn't know about Massa." - -"Your Master?" - -"None but." - -I looked over at the tombstone. Just one stone, and at the back of it a -cypress tree. Four fence posts around the tree and the stone, and then -were connected by a wire fence. The posts were newly placed, the wire -made up of odds and ends tied together and nailed in place with every -kind of nail imaginable. - -I handed the old man another cigarette and a silver dollar. - -"Tell me about it," I asked. - -It was a short story. The Colonel had gone to war in '61 and his -servant had gone with him. In '62 the negro had brought his Master -back blind. Years later he had died, and was buried on the knoll, and -a cypress was planted at the head of the grave. Now he was forgotten -by all except the whitened slave. The land had been sold and a school -house built on it. Today was the first day of school. The old man, -afraid that the grave would be desecrated by the cheap white trash, had -dug four holes, put in four posts, wired them and was now sitting guard -till school was out and the children gone. - -"The Colonel shure wouldn't like it. Gwine to bother him riding." - -"Does he ride?" I asked. - -"Bound to. That air man was almost borned in saddle. He rid to the war -and he rid back, blind tho he war, and he rides ever since. He done -told me, 'Sam, I am bound to ride till Miss Belle Flowers marries me.' -Corse, he done gone to Heaven years ago, but every night he rides on -his white mare, and I done kiver me head with the blanket when Ise hear -her hoofs go pounding up and down the road." - -"He was going to marry Miss Belle Flowers?" I asked. - -It appeared so. They were engaged when he rode away and when he came -back blind, she was married to another. Every night he had the white -mare saddled and would gallop up and down the road in front of her -house. He and the mare died the same day, and according to his will, -the Colonel and the Colonel's horse were buried in the same grave. - -School was dismissed. The children piled into the old Ford, into the -old buggies, on top of the saddle-horses, one, two and even three to -the horse. The school teachers, young and old, seven of them, left the -building. It was time for my examination of Miss Belle Flowers. - -I threw the rest of my cigarettes to the old negro. - -"You have fixed the Colonel," I laughed. "With that fence around the -grave, he cannot get the mare out for his ride tonight." - -He looked at me with puzzled eyes. - -"Massa's gwine ter ride. Just bound to ride till he marries Miss Belle. -Come sundown, Ise gwine to open the fence to let him and the mare out. -Warm tonight, and I'll sleep heyr. Massa may need me." - -After talking to Miss Flowers, I told her that I was rather doubtful of -her obtaining the life insurance; after I listened to her lungs, I was -sure that she was a bad risk. A history of two yeaas in bed fighting -tuberculosis made me hesitate. She looked strong and as pretty as a -rose, but today, at the end of school, she had fever. - -We talked it over outside the schoolhouse. We said goodbye twice. -Somehow it was difficult to say goodbye and leave her. To gain time, I -asked her about Sam. It seemed that Sam went insane when the Colonel -died. There was a long story about it. Eventually I said goodbye again -at her front gate and promised to call that night and hear the story. - -There was a full moon that night. - -She was waiting for me on the gallery, dressed in a riding habit of the -sixties, when ladies rode a side saddle. - -"My Grandmother's," she explained laughingly. "Yes, you have guessed -it, especially if Sam talked to you. In 1860 Belle Flowers, pride of -western Kentucky was engaged to the Colonel. They rode together, each -on a white horse. She wore the dress I have on. I thought it would make -the story more real to you if I wore her dress tonight. The Colonel -went to war and Sam went with him. My Grandmother was fickle and -married her cousin, another Flowers, and when the Colonel came back -stone blind, it was too late. He swore that he would night-ride past -her house till she married him. Grandmother used to tell me what a -sight it was to see him go galloping by on his white mare, and no one -able to tell by the way he rode that he couldn't see. She died years -before he did, but he kept riding on, just as though he didn't know she -was dead. Then one night he and the white mare died, and that was the -end of the Colonel. Of course, Sam says he still rides." - -"He does indeed, but of course that is just his insanity." - -"Yes, just his insanity," Miss Flowers agreed. "I talked to him today -about the patchwork fence he built around the grave, but he explained -that he would take a piece down to let his Master out on the horse. In -summer, he sleeps up there; says he never can tell when the Colenel -will want him. It all seems so real to him." - -She laughed, as though tense with suppressed excitement. - -"It is good to have you call on me tonight," she whispered. "I hardly -ever see anyone except Father, and he is moody. Don't want me to leave -the house at night. Made me promise not to leave the gallery unless you -went too." - -"He knows about me?" - -"Oh, yes, everyone knows about the new doctor. Let's walk down to -the gate. In full moonlight, you can see the white of the Colonel's -tombstone." - -Picking up the trail of her riding habit, she went before me, down -to the gate and opened it. She showed me a spot of white through the -trees. I took her hand. It was cold. - -"Night-riders," she said suddenly. "Two of them! Hear them come -galloping down the road." - -I heard nothing but a hoot owl in the bottoms. - -Then something lashed me across the face, striking me to the ground. -When I stood up, I was alone. Running into the house, I found Mr. -Flowers. - -"You are hurt!" he cried. "Slashed across the face with a riding whip. -But you should have stayed on the gallery. Belle ought to have known -better than to wear that dress. I told her not to, but you know how -headstrong those girls are." - -"That is not getting her back. Get a lantern. We have got to find her." - -"We will go through the fields. There is a short cut. You light the -lantern while I get a shawl for her. God, but it's cold and there's a -black cloud over the moon." - -I carried the shawl and almost had to run behind him as he carried the -lantern over the hill. We came to the corner of the schoolhouse at -last. Halfway to the tombstone, we stumbled over a body. It was Sam, -still alive but gasping for breath. - -"They done come back. Colonel and his lady. I'se gwine home now, case -the Colonel won't call fer me no more." - -Hand on wrist, I look at the white face of the man holding the lantern. - -"He is dead!" I whispered. - -"We have to find Belle," he cried, and went toward the grave. - -There we found her sleeping, one hand on the stone, at rest. - -Sitting on the ground he held her in his arms, crying. - -I took the lantern and examined the clay earth outside the fence. -Hoofprints of two shod horses, side by side. - -"She ran up here to tease you, Doctor. It was too much for her heart. -She slashed you across the face in play, and then ran here, thinking -you would follow her. That explains everything, doesn't it, Doctor?" - -"It should," I said gently, trying to unlock his arms from the lovely -thing he held. "It should, but the Colonel will ride no more." - - * * * * * - - - CELEBRITIES I'VE MET - - by Mortimer Weisinger - -Donald Wandrei, who frankly considers his stories "just so much junk" -from an artistic viewpoint. - -Nathan Schachner, who admits that he is a slow writer at best, one -thousand words each night being his maximum output. - -David Lasser, who profoundly apologized to the old Scienceers one night -for concealing the fact that Gawain Edwards was only a pen name. - -A perfunctory search through that register of eminent Americans, "Who's -Who," reveals the following science fiction celebrities as listed: -Edgar Rice Burroughs, J. U. Guiesy, Stanton A. Coblentz, George Allan -England, Dr. T. O'Conor Sloane, Hugo Gernsback, Edwin Balmer, William -MacHarg, T. S. Stribling, J. S. Haldane, A. Hyatt Verrill, Fred -MacIsaac, Ellis Parker Butler, Eric Temple Bell. - -What other fiction field can boast as many distinguished contributors? - - * * * * * - - - ADVERTISEMENTS - Rates: one cent per word - Minimum Charge, 25 cents - -Back Numbers of _The Fantasy Fan_: September, 20 cents (only a few -left), October, November, December, January, February, March, April, -May, June, 10 cents each. - - * * * * * - -CLARK ASHTON SMITH presents THE DOUBLE SHADOW AND OTHER FANTASIES--a -booklet containing a half-dozen imaginative and atmospheric -tales--stories of exotic beauty, horror, terror, strangeness, irony and -satire. Price: 25 cents each (coin or stamps). Also a small remainder -of EBONY AND CRYSTAL--a book of prose-poems published at $2.00, reduced -to $1.00 per copy. Everything sent postpaid. Clark Ashton Smith, -Auburn, California. - - * * * * * - -IMPORTANT! Many subscriptions to THE FANTASY FAN expire this fall. -Yours is probably one of them. DON'T forget to send in your new -subscription if you want THE FANTASY FAN to continue publication. EVERY -DOLLAR COUNTS! - - * * * * * - - Fantasy - Magazine - - Science Fiction Digest Company - 87-36--162nd Street - Jamaica, New York - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FANTASY FAN, VOLUME 1, NUMBER -11, JULY 1934 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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Hornig</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<table style='min-width:0; padding:0; margin-left:0; border-collapse:collapse'> - <tr><td>Title:</td><td>The Fantasy Fan, Volume 1, Number 11, July 1934</td></tr> - <tr><td></td><td>The Fan's Own Magazine</td></tr> -</table> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Charles D. Hornig</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: March 24, 2021 [eBook #64915]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FANTASY FAN, VOLUME 1, NUMBER 11, JULY 1934 ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/title.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - - -<p class="ph1">[Transcriber's Note: Extensive research did not uncover any<br /> -evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<h3>AN APOLOGY</h3> - - -<p>On page 143 of our May issue, we published an article entitled "About -H. G. Wells." According to the byline, it was written by Daniel -McPhail. The author was R. H. Barlow. We wish to apologize to R. H. -Barlow, Daniel McPhail, and our readers, for this mistake, and suggest -that contributors always sign their articles in the future to avoid -these mixups.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h3>OUR READERS SAY</h3> - -<p>"Some will perhaps wonder what I precisely meant, in my dialog in the -May issue, when my character, Sidney, exclaimed, "And if scribes could -only emulate Smith or Lovecraft or Howard!" I meant, of course, that -writers should strive to these three in <i>greatness</i>—but a greatness -of a different sort. For there can only be <i>one</i> Clark Ashton Smith, -<i>one</i> H. P. Lovecraft, <i>one</i> Robert E. Howard. But the aspiring writer -can always form himself on a good model; and in time, he will find -his <i>own</i> individuality. I wish to see another tale by Eando Binder, -as well as a story by J. Harvey Haggard, and more poetry by William -Lumley."—Robert Nelson</p> - -<p>"I find the June FANTASY FAN interesting. This story is really -good, the one by H. P. Lovecraft. Science in a weird atmosphere, -'From Beyond;' interesting, and the story worked out completely -satisfactorily. This will probably horrify a number of readers, but as -far as I know, this is the first story I have ever liked by Lovecraft; -but I like it very well. The word wanderings of 'Prose Pastels' number -three are a bit entrancing. F. Lee Baldwin seems worth his increased -column."—Forrest J. Ackerman</p> - -<p>"The June FANTASY FAN contained everything that goes to make a magazine -successful—I need not list the splendid array of stories and articles -that you have somehow condensed into one issue."—Duane W. Rimel</p> - -<p>"The June number was very well done. In addition to my old stand-bys -Lovecraft and Smith, I was pleased with Haggard's little note on -'Books of the Weird.' I'd like to see more of such articles. 'Weird -Whisperings' is one of my favorite columns."—H. Koenig</p> - -<p>"Enjoyed the latest FANTASY FAN—an excellent issue. The cover of -different colour adds to the effect."—H. P. Lovecraft</p> - -<p>"Please print only short stories, the shorter the better, and no -serials. Also give us a greater variety of authors. Let's have poetry -in every issue, but not too much of Smith's heavy ones. All eight -pieces printed so far have been fine! Very glad to see the way you're -encouraging amateurs."—William H. Dellenback</p> - -<p>"I wish to commend Mr. Lumley's remarkable poem, 'Shadows,' in the May -TFF. This poem seems to have in it all the mystic immemorial anguish -and melancholy of China. The quatrain, 'Dragons,' is a vivid picture -too. I enjoyed 'Phantom Lights,' 'The Flower God,' and the various -departments—in fact, the entire contents of the magazine."—Clark -Ashton Smith</p> - -<p>"The June issue of THE FANTASY FAN was great! I enjoyed immensely -the fine tale by H. P. Lovecraft, 'From Beyond.' It was extremely -well-written and lacked nothing in my estimation. I hope that I shall -enjoy many more of Mr. Lovecraft's splendid stories."—Fred John Walsen</p> - -<p>"I note in 'Weird Whisperings' that Seabury Quinn gets most of his -plots while shaving. According to the looks of things in 'Weird -Tales,' Mr. Quinn is sporting a long, long beard. Also in 'Weird -Whisperings' the nassysnoopers are revealing the real names of authors. -Now—febbensake—why do writers use <i>nom-de-plumes</i> if they let the -readers know their real names? What can be the use of pen-names in -such a case? As for 'Prose Pastels,' I must say I'm going to offer -my first criticism to Clark Ashton Smith. After reading 'The Muse of -Hyperborea,' I sez to myself, 'I'll bite! What is it?' You tell me—I -can't figure it out. Another thing I must slam Mr. Smith for is his use -of obsolete and rare words. Not that I don't enjoy them—they make the -stories so much more—so-so—but I dunno what they mean—my dictionary -is pretty big—but doesn't contain all those words."—Gertrude Hemken</p> - -<p>"The June 1934 FANTASY FAN is pleasing to the eyes with its bright -yellow cover. Please make Lovecraft's 'Supernatural Horror in -Literature' at least four pages long. 'Side Glances' and 'Weird -Whisperings' are interesting. You ought to discontinue 'Your Views,' -since it offers nothing of value."—Charles H. Bert</p> - -<p>"I was sure pleased with this month's TFF, and I especially liked -'Prose Pastels' by Clark Ashton Smith; also 'From Beyond' by H. P. -Lovecraft. Glad to see you are going to print such fine material as -is unjustifiably rejected by other magazines. Some of the real gems -of literature are sometimes never printed professionally, but thanks -to semi-amateur magazines like TFF, the efforts of an author is not -entirely lost. Let's have more by Mr. Lovecraft. Schwartz and Weisinger -have certainly been around quite a bit lately. Their stuff is brand new -and very interesting as well as amazing."—F. Lee Baldwin</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="ph1">Subscribe to TFF</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h3>WEIRD WHISPERINGS<br /> -by Schwartz and Weisinger</h3> - -<p>Seabury Quinn returns to <i>Weird Tales</i> in the September issue with the -latest Jules de Grandin thriller, "The Jest of Warburg Tantavul".... In -prospect for publication in <i>Weird</i> in the near future, but not as yet -scheduled, are two stories of brain transplantation by Bassett Morgan, -entitled "The Vengeance of Fi Fong" and "Black Bagheela," with great -apes and sinister Chinamen springing out of every corner to horrify and -amaze the reader.... All of H. P. Lovecraft's tales are sold to WT with -the understanding that nothing whatever is to be changed in them.... -"The Waning of a World" by W. Elwyn Backus, an old <i>Weird Tales</i> -serial, was reprinted in <i>Aviation & Mechanics</i> under the title "A Leap -to Mars."</p> - -<p>The "Weird Tales" radio program announced some time ago in the Eyrie, -has not been given up, but the Hollywood Radio Attractions, Inc., -which is handling the broadcasts and the making of the electrical -transcriptions, ran into difficulties in trying to get sponsors for -the program. However, they are pressing forward in a drive to obtain -sponsors in all the various districts.... Paul Ernst, who is about 33 -years old, has sold over 300 stories to more than 50 magazines since -1926.... A serial novel set in the Sahara Desert, entitled "Rulers of -the Future," written by Ernst, is slated for publication in <i>Weird</i> -next winter.... The tale of a mild-appearing, bespectacled American -physicist who in a few days forced the world to destroy its armaments -and agree to perpetual peace is narrated in S. Gordon Gurwitt's next -<i>Weird Tales'</i> story "The Golden Glow."</p> - -<p>Mysterious letters postmarked from Washington, D. C., consisting of -two mimeographed pages bearing the title "The Battle that Ended the -Century" have been received by several well-known fantasy authors, -editors and fans. It is a satire, and the character's names are those -of popular people in the fantasy field, being thinly veiled. Seabury -Quinn wrote Farnsworth Wright that if he didn't know that he lived in -Chicago he'd swear that Wright had written them. Frank Belknap Long, -Jr. feels confident that they were authored by H. P. Lovecraft who -is now touring in the South. "I'm too well acquainted with Howard's -(Howard Lovecraft) style," he declared, "to mistake it. It's just a -gag...."</p> - -<p>"The Distortion out of Space" by Francis Flagg, an ingenious tale of -the fourth dimension to appear in the August WT, has a very strange -illustration by Harold R. Hammond.... The same number will contain -a weird-scientific story by Frank Belknap Long Jr., entitled "The -Beast-Helper," a story based on the craze for dictatorships that is -epidemic in Europe just now.... Long, Jr., has crashed <i>Astounding -Stories</i> with "The Last Men," to appear in the August number.... On -hand for a coming issue of <i>Weird</i> is "Yellow Doom" by Robert H. -Leitfred, a smashing, quick-moving tale on the old theme of an oriental -despot who by his mastery of science tries to make himself ruler of the -world.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h3>THE END OF "SCOOPS"</h3> - -<p>Hugo Gernsback recently received the following letter from L. B. -Silvester, the founder of "Scoops," the first English all-stf magazine -that we've been hearing so much about.</p> - -<p>"In October of last year, I got at the board of Messrs. C. Arthur -Pearson, Ltd., of London, one of our big publishing houses. With -your magazine as an example, I strove to convince the powers that -be. They finally made a compromise—they would turn out an ambiguous -sort of cheap weekly which could assume definite adult or juvenile -characteristics upon receipt of those indications which a few months of -circulation would give.</p> - -<p>"A putrid sort of thing suffering under the name of SCOOPS was what -resulted. Together, Mr. F. Hadyn Dimock and myself tried to do what -was right and what the board wanted at the same time. I wrote a story -and some short articles every week; he did the editing. Finally we got -the board's consent for this form, but it was too late. The frivolous -name condemned it and the fact that in fifteen weeks it had picked up -a reputation for blood-and-thunder which it could never have lived -down. We asked for more money to re-launch it in the form we had first -visualized, but we were refused! The paper had failed. Britain's first -and only scientifiction paper had failed within four months of its -inception, and this in face of the fact that nowadays science has an -interest, to some extent, for everyone, and is to be found on the -screen and stage, and in the daily press."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h3>WITHIN THE CIRCLE<br /> -by F. Lee Baldwin</h3> - -<p>R. H. Barlow is a very talented youth. He is a pianist, painter, -sculptor in clay, landscape gardener and book collector. He has -completed a clay bas-relief of Cthulhu and a statuette of Ganesa, the -Hindoo Elephant God. One of his favorite bindings for his books is -snake skin. He shoots many snakes around his home in Florida and tans -the skin.</p> - -<p>"The Last Hieroglyph" by Clark Ashton Smith, which is scheduled in WT -is the last of a series of stories of the fabulous land of Zothique. -The first of the series was "The Empire of Necromancers." WT has -on hand another story of Zothique—"The Dark Eidolon".... William -Crawford, Editor of Marvel Tales, holds for publication "The Coming of -the White Worm." It may be issued in a separate booklet. This is the -first chapter of The Book of Eibon.</p> - -<p>Do you remember Loretta Burrough who wrote "Creeping Fingers"? She has -a yarn titled "What Waits in Darkness" slated for a future WT.</p> - -<p>H. P. Lovecraft is touring the South. He is making Savannah, St. -Augustine, Charleston, and other places that were founded in the -<i>early</i> days of this country, and also visiting R. H. Barlow of De -Land, Fla.</p> - -<p>Clark Ashton Smith wrote and published at 17 a book of poems called -"The Star Trader."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2>The Epiphany of Death</h2> - -<h3>by Clark Ashton Smith</h3> - -<p class="ph1">(Dedicated to H. P. Lovecraft)</p> - -<p>I find it peculiarly difficult to express the exact nature of the -sentiment which Tomeron had always evoked in me. However, I am sure -that the feeling never partook, at any time, of what is ordinarily -known as friendship. It was a compound of unusual esthetic and -intellectual elements, and was somehow closely allied in my thoughts -with the same fascination that has drawn me ever since early childhood -toward all things that are remote in space and time, or which have -about them the irresolvable twilight of antiquity. Somehow, Tomeron -seemed never to belong to the present; but one could readily have -imagined him as living in some bygone age. About him, there was nothing -whatever of the lineaments of our own period; and he even went so far -as to affect in his costume an approximation to the garments that were -worn several centuries ago. His complexion was extremely pale and -cadaverous, and he stooped heavily from poring over ancient tomes and -no less ancient maps. He moved always with the slow, meditative pace -of one who dwells among far-off reveries and memories; and he spoke -often of people and events and ideas that have long been forgotten. -For the most part, he was apparently unheedful of present things; and -I felt that for him the huge city of Ptolemides, in which we both -dwelt, with all its manifold clamor and tumult, was little more -than a labyrinth of painted vapors. Oddly enough, there was a like -vagueness in the attitude of others toward Tomeron; and though he had -always been accepted without question as a representative of the noble -and otherwise extinct family from which he claimed descent, nothing -appeared to be known about his actual birth and antecedents. With two -servants, who were both deaf-mutes, who were very old and who likewise -wore the raiment of a former age, he lived in the semi-ruinous mansion -of his ancestors, where, it was said, none of the family had dwelt for -many generations. There he pursued the occult and recondite studies -that were so congenial to his mind; and there, at certain intervals, I -was wont to visit him.</p> - -<p>I cannot recall the precise date and circumstances of the beginning -of my acquaintance with Tomeron. Though I come of a hardy line that -is noted for the sanity of its constitution, my faculties have been -woefully shaken by the horror of the happening with which that -acquaintance ended. My memory is not what it was, and there are -certain lacunae, for which my readers must contrive to forgive me. The -only wonder is, that my powers of recollection have survived at all, -beneath the hideous burden they have had to bear; for, in a more than -metaphoric sense, I have been as one condemned to carry with him at all -times and in all places the loathsome incubus of things long dead and -corrupt.</p> - -<p>I can readily recall, however, the studies to which Tomeron had -devoted himself, the lost demonian volumes from Hyperborea and Mu and -Atlantis with which his library shelves were heaped to the ceiling, -and the queer charts, not of any land that lies above the surface of -the earth, on which he pored by perpetual candle-light. I shall not -speak of these studies, for they would seem too fantastic and too -macabre for credibility; and that which I have to relate is incredible -enough in itself. I shall speak, however, of certain strange ideas -with which Tomeron was much pre-occupied, and concerning which he so -often discoursed to me in that deep, guttural and monotonous voice -of his, that had the reverberation of unsounded caverns in its tones -and cadences. He maintained that life and death were not the fixed -conditions that people commonly believed them to be; that the two -realms were often intermingled in ways not readily discerned, and had -penumbral borderlands; that the dead were not always dead, nor the -living, as such terms are habitually understood. But the manner in -which he spoke of those ideas was extremely vague and general; and -I could never induce him to specify his meaning or to proffer some -concrete illustration that would render it intelligible to a mentality -such as mine, that was unused to dealing in the cobwebs of abstraction. -Behind his words, there hovered, or seemed to hover, a legion of dark, -amorphous images that I could never formulate or depict to myself in -any way, till the fatal denouement of our descent into the catacombs -of Ptolemides.</p> - -<p>I have already said that my feeling for Tomeron was never anything -that could be classified as friendship. But even from the first, I -was well aware that Tomeron had a curious fondness for me—a fondness -whose nature I could not comprehend, and with which I could hardly even -sympathize. Though he fascinated me at all times, there were occasions -when my interest was not un-alloyed with a sense of actual repulsion. -At whiles, his pallor was <i>too</i> cadaverous, too suggestive of fungi -that have grown in the dark, or of leprous bones by moonlight; and -the stoop of his shoulders conveyed to my brain the idea that they -bore a burden of centuries through which no man could conceivably have -lived. He aroused always a certain awe in me; and the awe was sometimes -mingled with an indeterminate fear.</p> - -<p>I do not remember how long our acquaintance had continued; but I do -remember that he spoke with increasing frequency, toward the end, of -those bizarre ideas at which I have hinted. Also, I felt that he was -troubled about something, for he often looked at me with a mournful -gleam in his hollow eyes; and sometimes he would speak, with peculiar -stress, of the great regard that he had for me. And one night he said:</p> - -<p>"Theolus, the time is coming when you must know the truth—must know -me as I am, and not as I have been permitted to seem. There is a term -to all things, and all things are obedient to inexorable laws. I would -that it were otherwise, but neither I nor any man, among the living -or among the dead, can lengthen at will the term of any state or -condition of being, or alter the laws that decree such conditions."</p> - -<p>Perhaps it was well that I did not understand him, and that I was -unable to attach much importance to his words or to the singular -intentness of his bearing as he uttered them. For a few more days, I -was spared the knowledge which I now carry. Then, one evening, Tomeron -spoke thus:</p> - -<p>"I am now compelled to ask an odd favor of you, which I hope you will -grant me, in consideration of our long friendship. The favor is, that -you accompany me this very night to those vaults of my family which lie -in the catacombs of Ptolemides."</p> - -<p>Though much surprised by the request, and not altogether pleased, I was -nevertheless unable to deny him. I could not imagine the purpose of -such a visit as the one proposed; but, as was my wont, I forebore to -interrogate Tomeron, and merely told him that I would accompany him to -the vaults if such were his desire.</p> - -<p>"I thank you, Theolus, for this proof of friendship," he replied -earnestly. "Believe me, I am loath to ask it; but there has been a -certain deception, an odd misunderstanding which cannot go on any -longer. Tonight, you will know the truth."</p> - -<p>Carrying torches, we left the mansion of Tomeron and sought the ancient -catacombs of Ptolemides, which lie beyond the walls and have long been -disused, for there is now a fine necropolis in the very heart of the -city. The moon had gone down beyond the desert that encroaches toward -the catacombs; and we were forced to light our torches long before we -came to the subterranean adits; for the rays of Mars and Jupiter in a -sodden and funereal sky were not enough to illumine the perilous path -we followed among mounds and fallen obelisks and broken graves. At -length we discovered the dark and weed-choked entrance of the charnels; -and here Tomeron led the way with a swiftness and surety of footing -that bespoke long familiarity with the place.</p> - -<p>Entering, we found ourselves in a crumbling passage where the bones of -dilapidated skeletons were scattered amid the rubble that had fallen -from the sides and roof. A choking stench of stagnant air and of -age-old corruption made me pause for a moment; but Tomeron scarcely -appeared to perceive it, for he strode onward, lifting his torch and -beckoning me to follow. We traversed many vaults in which mouldy bones -and verdigris-eaten sarcophagi were piled about the walls or strewn -where desecrating thieves had left them in bygone years. The air was -increasingly dank, chill and miasmal; and mephitic shadows crouched or -swayed before our torches in every niche and corner. Also, as we went -onward, the walls became more ruinous and the bones we saw on every -hand were greener with the mould of time.</p> - -<p>At last we rounded a sudden angle of the low cavern we were following. -Here we came to vaults that evidently belonged to some noble family, -for they were quite spacious and there was but one sarcophagus in each -vault.</p> - -<p>"My ancestors and my family lie here," said Tomeron.</p> - -<p>We reached the end of the cavern and were confronted by a blank wall. -At one side, was the final vault, in which an empty sarcophagus stood -open. The sarcophagus was wrought of the finest bronze and was richly -carven.</p> - -<p>Tomeron paused before the vault and turned to me. By the flickering -uncertain light, I thought that I saw a look of strange and -unaccountable distress on his features.</p> - -<p>"I must beg you to withdraw for a moment," he said, in a low and -sorrowful voice. "Afterwards, you can return."</p> - -<p>Surprised and puzzled, I obeyed his request and went slowly back along -the cavern for some distance. Then I returned to the place where I -had left him. My surprize was heightened when I found that he had -extinguished his torch and had dropped it on the threshold of the final -vault. Also, Tomeron himself was not visible anywhere.</p> - -<p>Entering the vault, since there was no other place where he could -have hidden himself, I looked about for him, but the room was empty. -At least, I deemed it empty till I looked again at the richly carven -sarcophagus and saw that it was now tenanted, for a cadaver lay within, -shrouded in a winding sheet of a sort that has not been used for -centuries in Ptolemides.</p> - -<p>I drew nigh to the sarcophagus, and peering into the face of the -cadaver, I saw that it bore a fearful and strange resemblance to the -face of Tomeron, though it was bloated and puffed with the adipocere of -death and was purple with the shadows of decay, as after long ages in a -charnel air. And looking again, I saw that it was indeed Tomeron.</p> - -<p>I would have screamed aloud with the horror that came upon me; but my -lips were benumbed and frozen, and I could only whisper Tomeron's name. -But as I whispered it, the lips of the cadaver seemed to part, and the -tip of its tongue protruded between them. And I thought that the tip -trembled, as if Tomeron were about to speak and answer me. But gazing -more closely I saw that the trembling was merely the movement of worms -as they twisted up and down and to and fro, and sought to crowd each -other from Tomeron's tongue.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h2>SMOKE WITHOUT FIRE</h2> - -<p class="ph1">(A True Experience)</p> - -<h3>by Kenneth B. Pritchard</h3> - -<p>I chanced to be alone at the time. I was just about to enter the -kitchen of the house. I opened the door and went in.</p> - -<p>I glanced over toward the gas stove near a window. Close to it a cloud -of smoke streamed upward. It had the appearance of an easy rolling mass -just expelled from the lungs of a smoker. I also compared it to a match -that had just been extinguished. In fact, I thought that a mouse had -lit one.</p> - -<p>I went to the stove, which had not been used for some hours, and looked -for a match recently ignited, or even for some oily substance which the -sun might have caused to smoke.</p> - -<p>Everything was cold. The sun had not warmed anything. No match had been -lit. But, I had seen smoke rising!</p> - -<p>A friend of mine saw smoke rise in front of her, also. She too, could -ascertain no reason or source.</p> - -<p>What then really happened? Is it some indigenous quality of the air -that was the cause?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2>SUPERNATURAL HORROR IN LITERATURE</h2> - -<h3>by H. P. Lovecraft</h3> - -<p class="ph1">Part Ten</p> - -<p class="ph1">(Copyright 1927 by W. Paul Cook)</p> - -<p>"Melmoth" contains scenes which even now have not lost their power -to evoke dread. It begins with a death-bed—the old miser is dying -of sheer fright because of something he has seen, coupled with a -manuscript he has read and a family portrait which hangs in an obscure -closet of his centuried home in County Wicklow. He sends to Trinity -College, Dublin, for his nephew John; and the latter upon arriving -notes many uncanny things. The eyes of the portrait in the closet glow -horribly, and twice a figure strangely resembling the portrait appears -momentarily at the door. Dread hangs over the house of the Melmoths, -one of whose ancestors, "J. Melmoth, 1646," the portrait represents. -The dying miser declares that this man—at a date slightly before -1800—is still alive. Finally the miser dies, and the nephew is told -in the will to destroy both the portrait and a manuscript to be found -in a certain drawer. Reading the manuscript, which was written late -in the seventeenth century by an Englishman named Stanton, young John -learns of a terrible incident in Spain in 1677, when the writer met a -horrible fellow-countryman and was told of how he had stared to death -a priest who tried to denounce him as one filled with fearsome evil. -Later, after meeting the man again in London, Stanton is cast into a -madhouse and visited by the stranger, whose approach is heralded by -spectral music and whose eyes have more than mortal glare. Melmoth the -Wanderer—for such is the malign visitor—offers the captive freedom -if he will take over his bargain with the Devil; but like all others -whom Melmoth has approached, Stanton is proof against temptation. -Melmoth's description of the horrors of a life in a madhouse, used to -tempt Stanton, is one of the most potent passages of the book. Stanton -is at length liberated, and spends the rest of his life tracking down -Melmoth, whose family and ancestral abode he discovers. With the family -he leaves the manuscript, which by young John's time is sadly ruinous -and fragmentary. John destroys both portrait and manuscript, but in -sleep is visited by his horrible ancestor, who leaves a black and blue -mark on his wrist.</p> - -<p>Young John soon afterward receives as a visitor a shipwrecked Spaniard, -Alonzo de Moncada, who has escaped from compulsory monasticism and -from the perils of the Inquisition. He has suffered horribly—and the -descriptions of his experiences under torment and in the vaults through -which he once essays escape are classic—but had the strength to resist -Melmoth the Wanderer when approached at this darkest hour in prison. -At the house of a Jew who sheltered him after his escape, he discovers -a wealth of manuscript relating other exploits of Melmoth, including -his wooing of an Indian island maiden, Immalee, who later comes to -her birthright in Spain and is known as the Donna Isidora; and of his -horrible marriage to her by the corpse of a dead anchorite at midnight -in the ruined chapel of a shunned and abhorred monastery. Moncada's -narrative to young John takes up the bulk of Maturin's four-volume -book; this disproportion being considered one of the chief technical -faults of the composition.</p> - -<p>At last the colloquies of John and Moncada are interrupted by the -entrance of Melmoth the Wanderer himself, his piercing eyes now fading, -and decrepitude swiftly overtaking him. The term of his bargain has -approached its end, and he has come home after a century and a half to -meet his fate. Warning all others from the room, no matter what sounds -they may hear in the night, he awaits the end alone. Young John and -Moncada hear frightful ululations, but do not intrude till silence -comes toward morning. They then find the room empty. Clayey footprints -lead out a rear door to a cliff overlooking the sea, and near the -edge of the precipice is a track indicating the forcible dragging of -some heavy body. The Wanderer's scarf is found on a crag some distance -below the brink, but nothing further is ever seen or heard of him. Such -is the story, and none can fail to notice the difference between this -modulated, suggestive, and artistically moulded horror and—to use the -words of Professor George Saintsbury—"the artful but rather jejune -rationalism of Mrs. Radcliffe, and the too often puerile extravagance, -the bad taste, and the sometimes slipshod style of Lewis." Maturin's -style in itself deserves particular praise, for its forcible directness -and vitality lift it altogether above the pompous artificialities of -which his predecessors are guilty. Professor Edith Birkhead, in her -history of the Gothic novel, justly observes that "with all his faults, -Maturin was the greatest as well as the last of the Goths." "Melmoth" -was widely read and eventually dramatised, but its late date in the -evolution of the Gothic tale deprived it of the tumultuous popularity -of "Udolpho" and "The Monk."</p> - -<p>(<i>Next month Mr. Lovecraft takes up "The Aftermath of Gothic -Fiction."</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent8">I</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">In distant Yith past crested, ragged peaks;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">On far-flung islands lost to worldly years,</div> - <div class="verse">A shadow from the ancient star-void seeks</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Some being which in caverns shrilly cries</div> - <div class="verse">A challenge; and the hairy dweller speaks</div> - <div class="verse indent2">From that deep hole where slimy Sotho lies.</div> - <div class="verse">But when those night-winds crept about the place,</div> - <div class="verse">They fled—for Sotho had no human face!</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent8">II</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Beyond the valleys of the sun which lie</div> - <div class="verse indent2">In misty chaos past the reach of time;</div> - <div class="verse">And brood beneath the ice as aeons fly,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Long waiting for some brighter, warmer clime;</div> - <div class="verse">There is a vision, as I vainly try</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To glimpse the madness that must some day climb</div> - <div class="verse">From age-old tombs in dim dimensions hid,</div> - <div class="verse">And push all angles back—unseal the lid!</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent8">III</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Beside the city that once lived there wound</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A stream of putrefaction writhing black;</div> - <div class="verse">Reflecting crumbling spires stuck in the ground</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That glow through hov'ring mist whence no stray track</div> - <div class="verse">Can lead to those dead gates, where once was found</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The secret that would bring the dwellers back.</div> - <div class="verse">And still that pitch-black current eddies by</div> - <div class="verse">Those silver gates of Yith to sea-beds dry.</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent8">IV</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">On rounded turrets rising through the visne</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of cloud-veiled aeons that the Old Ones knew:</div> - <div class="verse">On tablets deeply worn and fingered clean</div> - <div class="verse indent2">By tentacles that dreamers seldom view;</div> - <div class="verse">In space-hung Yith, on clammy walls obscene</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That writhe and crumble and are built anew;</div> - <div class="verse">There is a figure carved; but God! those eyes,</div> - <div class="verse">That sway on fungoid stems at leaden skies!</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent8">V</div> -</div></div> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Around the place of ancient, waiting blight;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">On walls of sheerest opal rearing high,</div> - <div class="verse">That move as planets beckon in the night</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To faded realms where nothing sane can lie;</div> - <div class="verse">A deathless guard tramps by in feeble light,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Emitting to the stars a sobbing cry.</div> - <div class="verse">But on that path where footsteps should have led</div> - <div class="verse">There rolled an eyeless, huge and bloated head.</div> -</div></div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2>SCIENCE FICTION IN ENGLISH MAGAZINES</h2> - -<h3>by Bob Tucker</h3> - -<p class="ph1">(Series Seven)</p> - -<p>A late May issue of TRIUMPH carried "Invisible Charlie" by Tom -Stirling. (No reflections on you, Editor). However, the story was of -juvenile character, and the most terrible thing Invisible Charlie did -was to make a ball do funny tricks on its way from the pitcher to the -batter, Invisible Charlie himself carrying it, of course.</p> - -<p>Vol. 1, numbers 15 and 16 of SCOOPS presented: Two chapters of Doyle's -"Poison Belt," two of "Devilman of the Deep," and two of "Black -Vultures," leaving very little short story space.</p> - -<p>Number 15 had "Fighting Gas" which is self explanatory, and "The March -of the Beserks," mentioned previously. Number 16, besides the serials -already mentioned, had "The Accelerator Ray" which speeds up life, and -"Temple of Doom" which is a sort of "suspended animation" tale, with -its usual Man from the past waking in the future twist.</p> - -<p>The cover of 16 is "Mails by Rocket" and portrays two rockets flying -over London with the mail.</p> - -<p>Incidentally, although not a part of this dept., I would like to -mention that there are 'Rocket Mail' stamps on sale over there! Regular -rocket mail service is carried on in parts of Europe, and special -stamps have been issued for it. The two I have seen portray huge -rockets taking off, with long streamers of fire behind. Price is 1 mark -and 10 Groschen.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h3>FAMOUS FANTASY FICTION<br /> -by Emil Petaja</h3> - -<p>The Supernatural Omnibus, edited by Montague Summers; Doubleday Doran -Co. This remarkable collection contains thirty-six stories of the best -fantasy fiction. It is of particular interest to American readers as -most of its stories are taken from English magazines and out-of-print -books which most of us would find difficult to obtain. The introduction -is especially interesting.</p> - -<p>A. Conan Doyle has written several books of a scientific and weird -nature. Perhaps the best of these is "The Maracot Deep." In this story -the scientific theme predominates, until the very last chapter, in -which we find a typical <i>Jules de Grandin</i> finis. Among the other -stories in this book, "When the Earth Screamed" is easily the best. -This book can now be had in the 75 cent reprint list.</p> - -<p>"Famous Mystery Stories" and "Famous Ghost Stories" both edited by J. -W. McSpadden contain many old favorites, such as O'Brien's "The Diamond -Lens," Crawford's "The Upper Berth," and de Maupassant's "Horla." You -can get these books at any public library.</p> - -<p>Ghosts, Grim and Gentle, edited by L. C. French; Dodd, Mead & Co. -Although many of the stories in this volume have been reprinted very -often, it is well worth reading. One of its best is "The Tractate -Middoth," by Dr. M. R. James; mentioned by Clark Ashton Smith in his -article in the February <i>Fantasy Fan</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<h2>Rider By Night</h2> - -<h3>by David H. Keller</h3> - -<p>I asked one of the small boys playing around the schoolhouse.</p> - -<p>"Does Miss Belle Flowers teach here?"</p> - -<p>She did, and two minutes later I was in her class room, our -conversation being listened to with much interest by the twenty-odd -little boys and girls in the room. It seemed that she was expecting me, -and that I could make the examination in twenty minutes after school -was closed. So I decided to wait outside.</p> - -<p>It was a modern eight room consolidated country school, which seemed -to be built miles from everywhere. On one side, an old Ford car, three -buggies, and at least fifteen saddle-horses were parked. A few shabby -shrubs shivered silently in the sallow sunshine of spring. Here and -there remnants of building material told the story of the building's -recent construction.</p> - -<p>Walking along, I turned the corner of the building and looked toward -the west. What I saw made me walk away from the schoolhouse to a -white-haired darkey sitting on the ground propped against a wire fence. -He seemed asleep, but when I came near him, he turned to me a weasened -face with two eyes circled with the arcus senilis of the aged.</p> - -<p>I asked him to have a cigarette, and lit it for him; then sat down by -his side.</p> - -<p>"Queer place for a schoolhouse, Uncle," I said.</p> - -<p>"Worsen queer. Poor and hard on us."</p> - -<p>"How come?"</p> - -<p>"Quality folks put it heayr, whar land was cheap. Peers like they -didn't know about Massa."</p> - -<p>"Your Master?"</p> - -<p>"None but."</p> - -<p>I looked over at the tombstone. Just one stone, and at the back of it a -cypress tree. Four fence posts around the tree and the stone, and then -were connected by a wire fence. The posts were newly placed, the wire -made up of odds and ends tied together and nailed in place with every -kind of nail imaginable.</p> - -<p>I handed the old man another cigarette and a silver dollar.</p> - -<p>"Tell me about it," I asked.</p> - -<p>It was a short story. The Colonel had gone to war in '61 and his -servant had gone with him. In '62 the negro had brought his Master -back blind. Years later he had died, and was buried on the knoll, and -a cypress was planted at the head of the grave. Now he was forgotten -by all except the whitened slave. The land had been sold and a school -house built on it. Today was the first day of school. The old man, -afraid that the grave would be desecrated by the cheap white trash, had -dug four holes, put in four posts, wired them and was now sitting guard -till school was out and the children gone.</p> - -<p>"The Colonel shure wouldn't like it. Gwine to bother him riding."</p> - -<p>"Does he ride?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Bound to. That air man was almost borned in saddle. He rid to the war -and he rid back, blind tho he war, and he rides ever since. He done -told me, 'Sam, I am bound to ride till Miss Belle Flowers marries me.' -Corse, he done gone to Heaven years ago, but every night he rides on -his white mare, and I done kiver me head with the blanket when Ise hear -her hoofs go pounding up and down the road."</p> - -<p>"He was going to marry Miss Belle Flowers?" I asked.</p> - -<p>It appeared so. They were engaged when he rode away and when he came -back blind, she was married to another. Every night he had the white -mare saddled and would gallop up and down the road in front of her -house. He and the mare died the same day, and according to his will, -the Colonel and the Colonel's horse were buried in the same grave.</p> - -<p>School was dismissed. The children piled into the old Ford, into the -old buggies, on top of the saddle-horses, one, two and even three to -the horse. The school teachers, young and old, seven of them, left the -building. It was time for my examination of Miss Belle Flowers.</p> - -<p>I threw the rest of my cigarettes to the old negro.</p> - -<p>"You have fixed the Colonel," I laughed. "With that fence around the -grave, he cannot get the mare out for his ride tonight."</p> - -<p>He looked at me with puzzled eyes.</p> - -<p>"Massa's gwine ter ride. Just bound to ride till he marries Miss Belle. -Come sundown, Ise gwine to open the fence to let him and the mare out. -Warm tonight, and I'll sleep heyr. Massa may need me."</p> - -<p>After talking to Miss Flowers, I told her that I was rather doubtful of -her obtaining the life insurance; after I listened to her lungs, I was -sure that she was a bad risk. A history of two yeaas in bed fighting -tuberculosis made me hesitate. She looked strong and as pretty as a -rose, but today, at the end of school, she had fever.</p> - -<p>We talked it over outside the schoolhouse. We said goodbye twice. -Somehow it was difficult to say goodbye and leave her. To gain time, I -asked her about Sam. It seemed that Sam went insane when the Colonel -died. There was a long story about it. Eventually I said goodbye again -at her front gate and promised to call that night and hear the story.</p> - -<p>There was a full moon that night.</p> - -<p>She was waiting for me on the gallery, dressed in a riding habit of the -sixties, when ladies rode a side saddle.</p> - -<p>"My Grandmother's," she explained laughingly. "Yes, you have guessed -it, especially if Sam talked to you. In 1860 Belle Flowers, pride of -western Kentucky was engaged to the Colonel. They rode together, each -on a white horse. She wore the dress I have on. I thought it would make -the story more real to you if I wore her dress tonight. The Colonel -went to war and Sam went with him. My Grandmother was fickle and -married her cousin, another Flowers, and when the Colonel came back -stone blind, it was too late. He swore that he would night-ride past -her house till she married him. Grandmother used to tell me what a -sight it was to see him go galloping by on his white mare, and no one -able to tell by the way he rode that he couldn't see. She died years -before he did, but he kept riding on, just as though he didn't know she -was dead. Then one night he and the white mare died, and that was the -end of the Colonel. Of course, Sam says he still rides."</p> - -<p>"He does indeed, but of course that is just his insanity."</p> - -<p>"Yes, just his insanity," Miss Flowers agreed. "I talked to him today -about the patchwork fence he built around the grave, but he explained -that he would take a piece down to let his Master out on the horse. In -summer, he sleeps up there; says he never can tell when the Colenel -will want him. It all seems so real to him."</p> - -<p>She laughed, as though tense with suppressed excitement.</p> - -<p>"It is good to have you call on me tonight," she whispered. "I hardly -ever see anyone except Father, and he is moody. Don't want me to leave -the house at night. Made me promise not to leave the gallery unless you -went too."</p> - -<p>"He knows about me?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, everyone knows about the new doctor. Let's walk down to -the gate. In full moonlight, you can see the white of the Colonel's -tombstone."</p> - -<p>Picking up the trail of her riding habit, she went before me, down -to the gate and opened it. She showed me a spot of white through the -trees. I took her hand. It was cold.</p> - -<p>"Night-riders," she said suddenly. "Two of them! Hear them come -galloping down the road."</p> - -<p>I heard nothing but a hoot owl in the bottoms.</p> - -<p>Then something lashed me across the face, striking me to the ground. -When I stood up, I was alone. Running into the house, I found Mr. -Flowers.</p> - -<p>"You are hurt!" he cried. "Slashed across the face with a riding whip. -But you should have stayed on the gallery. Belle ought to have known -better than to wear that dress. I told her not to, but you know how -headstrong those girls are."</p> - -<p>"That is not getting her back. Get a lantern. We have got to find her."</p> - -<p>"We will go through the fields. There is a short cut. You light the -lantern while I get a shawl for her. God, but it's cold and there's a -black cloud over the moon."</p> - -<p>I carried the shawl and almost had to run behind him as he carried the -lantern over the hill. We came to the corner of the schoolhouse at -last. Halfway to the tombstone, we stumbled over a body. It was Sam, -still alive but gasping for breath.</p> - -<p>"They done come back. Colonel and his lady. I'se gwine home now, case -the Colonel won't call fer me no more."</p> - -<p>Hand on wrist, I look at the white face of the man holding the lantern.</p> - -<p>"He is dead!" I whispered.</p> - -<p>"We have to find Belle," he cried, and went toward the grave.</p> - -<p>There we found her sleeping, one hand on the stone, at rest.</p> - -<p>Sitting on the ground he held her in his arms, crying.</p> - -<p>I took the lantern and examined the clay earth outside the fence. -Hoofprints of two shod horses, side by side.</p> - -<p>"She ran up here to tease you, Doctor. It was too much for her heart. -She slashed you across the face in play, and then ran here, thinking -you would follow her. That explains everything, doesn't it, Doctor?"</p> - -<p>"It should," I said gently, trying to unlock his arms from the lovely -thing he held. "It should, but the Colonel will ride no more."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h3>CELEBRITIES I'VE MET<br /> -by Mortimer Weisinger</h3> - -<p>Donald Wandrei, who frankly considers his stories "just so much junk" -from an artistic viewpoint.</p> - -<p>Nathan Schachner, who admits that he is a slow writer at best, one -thousand words each night being his maximum output.</p> - -<p>David Lasser, who profoundly apologized to the old Scienceers one night -for concealing the fact that Gawain Edwards was only a pen name.</p> - -<p>A perfunctory search through that register of eminent Americans, "Who's -Who," reveals the following science fiction celebrities as listed: -Edgar Rice Burroughs, J. U. Guiesy, Stanton A. Coblentz, George Allan -England, Dr. T. O'Conor Sloane, Hugo Gernsback, Edwin Balmer, William -MacHarg, T. S. Stribling, J. S. Haldane, A. Hyatt Verrill, Fred -MacIsaac, Ellis Parker Butler, Eric Temple Bell.</p> - -<p>What other fiction field can boast as many distinguished contributors?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<h3>ADVERTISEMENTS<br /> -Rates: one cent per word<br /> -Minimum Charge, 25 cents</h3> - -<p>Back Numbers of <i>The Fantasy Fan</i>: September, 20 cents (only a few -left), October, November, December, January, February, March, April, -May, June, 10 cents each.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>CLARK ASHTON SMITH presents THE DOUBLE SHADOW AND OTHER FANTASIES—a -booklet containing a half-dozen imaginative and atmospheric -tales—stories of exotic beauty, horror, terror, strangeness, irony and -satire. Price: 25 cents each (coin or stamps). Also a small remainder -of EBONY AND CRYSTAL—a book of prose-poems published at $2.00, reduced -to $1.00 per copy. Everything sent postpaid. Clark Ashton Smith, -Auburn, California.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>IMPORTANT! Many subscriptions to THE FANTASY FAN expire this fall. -Yours is probably one of them. DON'T forget to send in your new -subscription if you want THE FANTASY FAN to continue publication. 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