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Yesterday, I dumped on my son the following story:
That my father was a cyclops and, of course, had one eye,
That my fifteen brothers wanted to devour me,
So, I barely got myself out of their…
For four hours I sat engrossed while old Gershon Falk told his story, feeling all the while as though I were listening to a fantastic saga—as though I were in the presence of one from another time…