ast his chimahalk down (for so
he named the club of his heart's desire) lest the dwarf should defy
him with nimbleness; and stepped towards Lrippity-Kang with gripping
hands, who stopped in his mountainous walk without a word, and swung
round his hideous breadth to confront Plash-Goo. Already then
Plash-Goo in the deeps of his mind had seen himself seize the dwarf in
one large hand and hurl him with his beard and his hated breadth sheer
down the precipice that dropped away from that very place to the land
of None's Desire. Yet it was otherwise that Fate would have it. For
the dwarf parried with his little arms the grip of those monstrous
hands, and gradually working along the enormous limbs came at length
to the giant's body where by dwarfish cunning he obtained a grip; and
turning Plash-Goo about, as a spider does some great fly, till his
little grip was suitable to his purpose, he suddenly lifted the giant
over his head. Slowly at first, by the edge of that precipice whose
base sheer distance hid, he swung his giant victim round his head, but
soon faster and faster; and at last when Plash-Goo was streaming round
the hated breadth of the dwarf and the no less hated beard was
flapping in the wind, Lrippity-Kang let go. Plash-Goo shot over the
edge and for some way further, out towards Space, like a stone; then
he began to fall. It was long before he believed and truly knew that
this was really he that fell from this mountain, for we do not
associate such dooms with ourselves; but when he had fallen for some
while through the evening and saw below him, where there had been
nothing to see, or began to see, the glimmer of tiny fields, then his
optimism departed; till later on when the fields were greener and
larger he saw that this was indeed (and growing now terribly nearer)
that very land to which he had destined the dwarf.

At last he saw it unmistakable, close, with its grim houses and its
dreadful ways, and its green fields shining in the light of the
evening. His cloak was streaming from him in whistling shreds.

So Plash-Goo came to the Land of None's Desire.

The Three Sailors' Gambit

Sitting some years ago in the ancient tavern at Over, one afternoon in
Spring, I was waiting, as was my custom, for something strange to
happen. In this I was not always disappointed for the very curious
leaded panes of that tavern, facing the sea, let a light into the
low-ceilinged room so mysterious, particularly at eve