One end of the necktie became longer and longer as its opposite end shortened. With a final but quiet jerk, the necktie came free, hesitated for a moment opposite Wesley's belt buckle, then folded itself neatly and floated away.

Heather giggled. "Were you laughing at me?" Wesley demanded,

"Heather," said Jerry, "will you marry me?"

In the free-for-all that followed, nobody settled anything.

All that occurred some time ago, of course. Meanwhile, what collector hasn't heard of J. Masterson-Junior, whose canvases are lauded for their "other world" quality? And, if you have children, you probably know by heart the little book chronicling the fortunes and misfortunes of Oscar, the werewolf who fainted at the sight of blood. And there's Harriet, the hodag. And Gary, the stone-eating gyascutus. And Robert, the sidehill gouger.

Recently in print is a story of Oscar's love for Vi, the Vitiated Vampire.

Mr. and Mrs. Jerry Masterson are widely respected. She writes the books. He illustrates them in his spare time. Such a delightfully zany couple! Always joking about a Scottish sea captain who lives in the attic and is married to an Indian princess.

No wonder the Masterson children are overly imaginative—warning their playmates not to sit on Gertrude, not to step on Oscar's tail. But all kids go through a phase like that. Only a few of them are lucky enough to grow up and make money out of it—lots of highly respectable money—like the Mastersons.

 Prev. P 14/14