Robert Louis Stevenson

'Say not of me, that weakly I declined The labours of my sires, and fled the sea, The towers we founded, and the lamps we lit, To play at home with paper like a child; But rather say: IN THE AFTERNOON OF TIME A STRENUOUS FAMILY DUSTED FROM ITS HANDS THE SAND OF GRANITE, AND BEHOLDING FAR ALONG THE SOUNDING COASTS ITS PYRAMIDS AND TALL MEMORIALS CATCH THE DYING SUN, SMILED WELL-CONTENT, AND TO THIS CHILDISH TASK AROUND THE FIRE ADDRESSED ITS EVENING HOURS.'

Some of his works are, no doubt, best described as paper-games. In THE WRONG BOX, for instance, there is something very like the card- game commonly called 'Old Maid'; the odd card is a superfluous corpse, and each dismayed recip