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Arthur E. Becher
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Arthur E. Becher
THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE At the half-conscious moment of awakening Prime had a confused impression that he must have gone to bed leaving the electric lights turned on full-blast. Succeeding impressions were even more disconcerting. It seemed that he had also gone to bed with his clothes on; that the bed was unaccountably hard; that the pillow had borrowed the characteristics of a pillory. Sitting up to...
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Arthur E. Becher
The Prairie Mother Sunday the Fifteenth I opened my eyes and saw a pea-green world all around me. Then I heard the doctor say: “Give ’er another whiff or two.” His voice sounded far-away, as though he were speaking through the Simplon Tunnel, and not merely through his teeth, within twelve inches of my nose. I took my whiff or two. I gulped at that chloroform like a thirsty Bedouin at a...
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