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Fanfare, November 1950

Page 21a

His bloodshot eyes fastened upon me with a look of such joy that I was reminded of where I was.
"My God, man!" I ejaculated. "How did you ever come to be down here in this unholy place? And what are you doing on that hellish contraption?"
He answered me in a deep, rumbling voice. The words he used were an outmoded form of dialectic German which I had difficulty in making out. "Ah, mein Gott! At last someone has come to release me!! Hurry, please man! Get me off of this thing!"
"But why..." I began.
"I will tell you everything as soon as you have freed me," he almost screamed at me. "But for the sake of all that is holy, get me loose first! The pain...!"
I hesitated no longer, but ran over to the rack and severed his bonds with my clasp knife. As the pressure on his body was released, he seemed to sink into a half-coma of relief. I bent over him and started to massage his hands in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness.
Probably it was his knee he used to know me into unconsciousness. At least that's my guess. But I can almost forgive him for it. The tortures he had endured during those long years must have driven him almost out of his mind. And that, I find, is readily understandable. I know the pain I suffer is sheer agony.
Say, you there. Yes, you. Will you help me? Please come here and get me out of this thing. Please! Please come and take my place so that I, too, can be free again.
The End

The Spell Of Night
The shores of night, on which the cloud-waves break,
Extend for leagues before me as I stand,
A-tremble at the sight. The wondrous land,
Serene beyond the spume-tipped waves that make
The dark a glory of translucent mist,
Has caught my soul; and from its subtle hold
No more may I adventure as of old
Until the very stars cease to exist.

The edge of night has touched me with its spell,
Has drawn me from the normal haunts of men.
In stellar paths from above the hazy ken
Of those whose lives are bound by Heaven and Hell,
I'll wander, lonely like a vagrant Mars,
And listen to the thunder of the stars.
-- Andrew Duane

THE GAP IN THE CURTAIN
With the next issue, Fan-Fare celebrates its first anniversary; and we have several surprises in store. We'll give you a slight preview, however. From forty-two to forty-six pages; including two covers. The lead story is one we think will make fan history: Al Leverentz's poignant story, Choice; and four others, including a Mr. Littlechip tale, WAR IS H___THY, a short-short by Del Close, an intriguing story by Eugene DeWeese entitled Guard Station, and a 10,000-word novelette of adventure in the twilight of the world, named, of course, THE TWILIGHT WORLD---that by George  Craig. And we'll have a few other surprises up our sleeves (or pages, in this case) which we shan't reveal now---and say, if you've been trying to get one of your friends to buy FAN-FARE, this is the issue for him to see! --- THE EDITOR

Saving...

His bloodshot eyes fastened upon me with a look of such joy that I was reminded of where I was. "My God, man!" I ejaculated. "How did you ever come to be down here in this unholy place? And what are you doing on that hellish contraption?" He answered me in a deep, rumbling voice. The words he used were an outmoded form of dialectic German which I had difficulty in making out. "Ah, mein Gott! At last someone has come to release me!! Hurry, please man! Get me off of this thing!" "But why..." I began. "I will tell you everything as soon as you have freed me," he almost screamed at me. "But for the sake of all that is holy, get me loose first! The pain...!" I hesitated no longer, but ran over to the rack and severed his bonds with my clasp knife. As the pressure on his body was released, he seemed to sink into a half-coma of relief. I bent over him and started to massage his hands in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness. Probably it was his knee he used to know me into unconsciousness. At least that's my guess. But I can almost forgive him for it. The tortures he had endured during those long years must have driven him almost out of his mind. And that, I find, is readily understandable. I know the pain I suffer is sheer agony. Say, you there. Yes, you. Will you help me? Please come here and get me out of this thing. Please! Please come and take my place so that I, too, can be free again. The End The Spell Of Night The shores of night, on which the cloud-waves break, Extend for leagues before me as I stand, A-tremble at the sight. The wondrous land, Serene beyond the spume-tipped waves that make The dark a glory of translucent mist, Has caught my soul; and from its subtle hold No more may I adventure as of old Until the very stars cease to exist. The edge of night has touched me with its spell, Has drawn me from the normal haunts of men. In stellar paths from above the hazy ken Of those whose lives are bound by Heaven and Hell, I'll wander, lonely like a vagrant Mars, And listen to the thunder of the stars. -- Andrew Duane THE GAP IN THE CURTAIN With the next issue, Fan-Fare celebrates its first anniversary; and we have several surprises in store. We'll give you a slight preview, however. From forty-two to forty-six pages; including two covers. The lead story is one we think will make fan history: Al Leverentz's poignant story, Choice; and four others, including a Mr. Littlechip tale, WAR IS H___THY, a short-short by Del Close, an intriguing story by Eugene DeWeese entitled Guard Station, and a 10,000-word novelette of adventure in the twilight of the world, named, of course, THE TWILIGHT WORLD---that by George Craig. And we'll have a few other surprises up our sleeves (or pages, in this case) which we shan't reveal now---and say, if you've been trying to get one of your friends to buy FAN-FARE, this is the issue for him to see! --- THE EDITOR