Then Jim spoke in a guarded tone. I don't see a thing except a jay and some bushtits. Do you? No, I haven't seen a thing that looks deerish. I guess we drew a blank this trip. […]

I have read with amusement, not wholly unmixed with some less complimentary emotion, the complacent and wholly fatuous letter of James Wilson MacPhail which has lately appeared in your columns upon the subject of the blurring of Frauenhofer's lines in the spectra both of the planets and of the fixed stars.

See that man over there? He's sound. You should get to know him.

a last-minute scramble to the finish line