Today's Stichomancy for Sidney Poitier

and thereby not only pay honour to the gods, but also provide for themselves holiday and amusement" (R. Williams). Thuc. ii. 38, "And we have not forgotten to provide for our weary spirits many relaxations from toil; we have regular games and sacrifices throughout the year" (Jowett). Plut. "Them." v., {kai gar philothuten onta kai lampron en tais peri tous xenous dapanais . . .} "For loving to sacrifice often, and to be splendid in his entertainment of strangers, he required a plentiful revenue" (Clough, i. 236). To which add Theophr. "Char." xv. 2, "The Shameless Man": {eita thusas tois theois autos men deipnein par' etero, ta de krea apotithenai alsi pasas, k.t.l.}, "then when he

boasting alliance with Sparta, he had dictatorially enjoined the emancipation of Messene.[37] But when the man who had summoned him refused to confer the proffered generalship, Agesilaus, like one on whom a flagrant deception has been practised, began to consider the part he had to play. Meanwhile a separate division[38] of the Egyptian armies held aloof from their king. Then, the disaffection spreading, all the rest of his troops deserted him; whereat the monarch took flight and retired in exile to Sidon in Phoenicia, leaving the Egyptians, split in faction, to choose to themselves a pair of kings.[39] Thereupon Agesilaus took his decision. If he helped neither, it meant that neither would pay the service-money due to his

orange while I unroll the top of this sardine can. I'm guilty of having interrupted you in the middle of what the girls call a good cry, and I know you'll have to get it out of your system some way. Take a bite of apple and then wade right in and tell me what you're doing in this burg if you don't like it."

"This thing ought to have slow music," began Gertie. "It's pathetic. I came to Chicago from Beloit, Wisconsin, because I thought that little town was a lonesome hole for a vivacious creature like me. Lonesome! Listen while I laugh a low mirthless laugh. I didn't know anything about the three-ply, double-barreled, extra heavy brand of lonesomeness that a big town

Buttered Side Down

mus' not die."

The surgeon called it a marvel, the missionary a miracle, that Leclere pulled through at all; and so weakened was he, that in the spring the fever got him, and he went on his back again. Batard had been in even worse plight, but his grip on life prevailed, and the bones of his hind legs knit, and his organs righted themselves, during the several weeks he lay strapped to the floor. And by the time Leclere, finally convalescent, sallow and shaky, took the sun by the cabin door, Batard had reasserted his supremacy among his kind, and brought not only his own team-mates but the missionary's dogs into subjection.