When I was young, seven or eight, one of my father’s German short-haired pointers had puppies. These were marvelous things, trembly and small as guinea pigs and swimming all over each other so they were hard to count. Their eyes, still blind, were like little cuts. After a few days my father decid…


Reading Comprehension: Text No. 2
New Tarzon Guided Bomb Hits Bull’s-Eye!