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Fj ( ^ Rea 1 r •) JP S=le^ tiarls tc TE'^TRAl NOVEITY rOMPANY IJSN Le Sails Slrat Chicago HI ENTERTAIN YOUR FRIENDS jEMT- llB paetb ch k f ill o£ fornanM= Mibltr laglitb of hand Gif DitappPMnsact- AU kinds of fun. Buy a cop/ POPULAR MAGIC PRICE 50c SOLD ON ALL NEWSSTANDS EXPERIMENTER PUBLISHING CO.. Inc. S3 PARK PLACE NEW YORK N Y TRAVEL— S filEii— W0^e!t,17!!J!^ ° {^AMAZING STORIES _ The Coming of the Ice By G;peyton Wbetenbaker one iccord they rose before my eyes and. Ignoring ine as a baser creature, I hey stripped away tlieir load of tat- reied rags and, one by one, they stalk- <>d with their tiny shrivelled limbs into the shivering gale of swirling, gusting snow and disappeared. And I was alone ... So am I alone now. I have wiitten this last fantastic history of myself and of Mankind upon a substance that will I know, outlast even the snow ind the Ice— as it has outlasted Man- kind that made it. It is the only thing with which I have never parted. For IS it not irony that I should be the historian of this race — I, a, savage, m 'archaic survival?" Why do I wiite' God knows, but some instinct piompts me, although there will never be men to read. I have , been sitting here, waiting, and I have thought often of Sir John ind Alice, whom I loved. Can it be that I am feeiing again, after all these ages, some tiny portion of that emotion, that great passion I once knew " I see her face before me, the face I have lost from my thoughts for eons, and something is in it that stirs my blood again. Her eyes are half -closed and deep, her lips are P'liteil as though I could crush them Mth an infinity of wonder and dis- cos erj, OGod! It is love again, love that I thought was lost! They have often smiled upon me when I spoke of God, and muttered about my foolish, pi imitive superstitions. But they are gone_ and I am left who believe in God, and surely there is purpose in it. I am cold, I have written. Ah, I am iioaen. My breath freezes as it mingles with the air, and I can hardly move my nuHfl3^d.fiiigei*s. The Ice is closing over me/and 1 cannot break it any longer. The storm cries wierdly all about me in the fwilight, and I know this is the end. The end of the world. And I— I, the last man. . . . Ti.e'last man. ... ... I am cold — cold. . . . But is it you, Alice, Is it you? THE END Work for "One!'} Sam Railway Postal Clerks Mail Carriers $1700 to $2700 Year PO UL R H G s E ROUE T D O ~~ b RAD E p "si P p^ p*! QNG FOE S ENTER THIS BIG S5,OOO«0O CONTEST Offers $5000 in cash prizes every niontli to" its readers in a Special "Matchcraft" Contest Full details of this anl rthec b g cm tests «in be found in the JUNE IS SUE of Science & Im-etti ^i ■ PRSCE 2Sc SOLD ON ALL NEll SST/ D': . EXPERlMSNTER FUBl 1SH!N( i O In SS PAltK PLApB : NEA 1 OPI N