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Weekly Contest #99
KEESH lived long summers ago on the rim of the polar sea, was the head man of his village through many and prosperous years, and died full of honors with his name on the lips of men. And the winter darkness, when the north gales make their long sweep across the ice-pack, and the air is filled with flying white, and no man may venture forth, is the chosen time for the telling of how Keesh, from the poorest IGLOO in the village, rose to power and place over them all. He was a bright boy, healthy and strong, For each winter the sun leaves the l...
Once in the sunshine, In a little district west of Washington Square, the streets have run crazy and broken themselves into small strips called "places." These "places" make strange angles and curves. One Street crosses itself a time or two. An artist once discovered a valuable possibility in this street. Suppose a collector with a bill for paints, paper, and canvas should, in traversing this route, suddenly meet himself coming back, without a cent having been paid on account! So, to quaint old Greenwich Village, the art people soon came pro...
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