Flying Lessons & Other Stories

"A magician most profound in his art."
It was Sunday afternoon. The griffins on the doorstep stared straight before them with an expression of utter indifference; the feathery foliage of the white birch swayed gently back and forth; the peonies lifted their crimson heads airily; the snowball bush bent under the weight of its white blooms till it swept the grass; the fountain splashed softly.
"'By cool Siloam's shady rill
How fair the lily grows,'"
Rosalind chanted dreamily.
Grandm…