Terror in the night I FELT, and vainly imagined I looked, like Philo Vance as I fared forth from my abode the other evening. I cocked one eyebrow quizzically and pulled my hat brim down over my eyes. As I donned my gloves I scanned the neighborhood with seemingly casual yet actually deeply penetrant glances. I wore no official badge, for I have never permitted my amateur sleuthings to take a professional turn, although from time to time I have been privately consulted regarding certain cases the solutions of which were beyond bourgeois ability. Nor did I carry a weapon. Psychological deduction and mental cleverness I knew to be the sources on which I must draw were I to outmaneuver the threatening forces of the night. The sky was heavy and black as I set out alone in the gathering dusk. A thin drizzle of rain was beginning to fall, and through it the street lamps leered like phantom eyes of the night. I turned up the collar of my coat. The rain came harder; it soon formed a tiny riverlet that trickled off the brim of my hat and gathered momentum as it ran down my back. It was a perfect night for dastardly deeds. . . . The knowledge that I was in for a soaking and the thought that my conquest might be to no avail did not serve to deter me instead, I only pressed more swiftly onward into the bleak, rainy night. I could feel the cold bulk of a flashlight in my pocket, and I was glad. I began to wish I had a pistol, yet at the same time assured myself I would have no need for one. That is, if things would only break my way on this one desperate night. . . . The shadowy form of a stray dog brought a sudden passing chill. "Pull yourself together,'" I whispered to myself; "you can't let your nerves get the best of you so soon. Remember what is yet to come this night." But this self-given advice failed materially to lighten my spirits; and the rain, which was by then pelting down in black torrents, further dampened them. I paused for a moment under the partially protective branches of a gaunt elm tree to reconoiter my situation, then headed again into the sheet of rain. An immense darkness loomed menacingly ahead of me. Even the street lights were lost in the downpour. But my mind at least was clear; I was beginning to see hope ahead. I shivered with a little flutter of excitement and anticipation, and even smiled a little at the thought of coming satisfaction. I drew near to the lights of the city, their misty glow a grim reminder of the chilling blackness I was soon to enter. Main street was athrong with crowds; yet I hardly noticed them. I only hurried onward, intent upon my purpose. Finally I stood before one building that was more brilliantly lighted than any other. I shivered again at the thought that it could be so enticing outside, yet could conceal such sinister purport within. 3 Stanley Johnson I hesitated momentarily. Should I go on with this perilous escapade? Perhaps I had better turn back while there was yet time. . . . But no, I told myself, I must force myself onward, though it meant life ... or death .... And so I breathed deeply, gulped once or twice, and entered the theatre to see "Dracula" and "Frankenstein" on a double bill. (Continued from Page 6) with when you have dispatched the larger elements. Since one is likely to spill something or make a spot on the tablecloth, special warning should be given against embarrassment. All one has to do is to place, absent-mindedly, a piece of bread over the spilled substance, butter side down. The butter will keep the bread from slipping off the spot, and no one will know what has happened. If you bite your tongue, by all means do not utter uncouth idioms. It isn't considered good etiquette. Just let your tongue hang out of the corner of your mouth for a few moments until it feels a little better. In this delicate way you can apprise the people of your misfortune and so gain considerable sympathy. Whenever you get a chance, be sure to show off your silver-snitching dexterity. Carelessly knock a couple of the best pieces of silver on the floor. While picking them up slip one into your shoe; then place the other on the table. This is quite a stunt. If you practice this clever trick religiously every time you dine out, you will soon have an enviable collection of tableware. If ice cream is served for dessert, don't gulp it down as though you were unused to it. Dilly-dally as much as possible in a bored manner and make it soupy by paddling your spoon around in it. This is the ultimate in good manners. If you spill your coffee in your neighbor's lap, instantly assure him that you really didn't care for the coffee anyway. You can put him at his ease by telling him not to mind it at all. When the meal is finished the waitress may bring you a small dish containing tepid water. This is a finger bowl. Let your thumbs hang gracefully over the outside, but dangle your fingers in the water and jerk them vigorously at intervals as though you would imitate fish at play. When the cuticle is thoroughly moistened, shake the water onto the floor and wipe your hands on the table cloth. By this time the company unquestionably will have been captivated by your rare good breeding. Many families and groups will soon be contesting jealously for your gracious presence among them and at their table. Page Twenty-two Page Twenty-three