“Catch me if you can!”
The boy ran through the busy street. He dodged the basket weaver and knocked over the candle stick maker’s display. They chased him down an alley. He lost them in a fit of pique and sat down next to an old man who was in tears.

The boy looked up at the old man and pulled a face.
The old man ignored him.
“Old man,” he said, “why do you cry?”
“These tears do not go away,” said the old man. “They never dry.”
“How can tears never dry? Do you cook with onions? – Why my mother says all you need to do is eat a piece of bread when you chop them.”
“These tears cannot be stopped by eating bread,” said the old man. “These tears are the tears that never dry.”
The boy whose name was Sinbad was silent, perplexed by the words of the old man. What could they mean? – He was a queer old fish, but what did he care?
He skipped over to the candle-stick maker and – just for fun - knocked over his display.
“Catch me, if you can!”
“Come back here!” cried the candlestick maker.
The whole merry dance began again. The candlestick maker shook his fist; the basket weaver stopped short of breath.
Finally, Sinbad made his way back to the old man and sat down beside him. Tears were still streaming down the old man’s face.

(After Pliny)

There were two brothers both called Percy. Men said they were perhaps not so close, but rather men who spoke few words who were indeed close. The truth of this was demonstrated when the elder Percy was taken ill.
At death’s door he called in his wife and servants. “Send for my brother,” he told them, “and tell him to make ready the funeral arrangements.”
Percy fell into unconsciousness, but just when it was thought he was dead, he awoke and called again to his wife and servants.
“I have just come from my brother’s house,” he said, “where he told me to make ready the funeral arrangements for him.”
When he felt stronger, they all went to his younger brother’s house and found that it was as Percy dreamed.
Then Percy called to his brother’s daughter. “Go to the bottom of the garden,” he said. “There you will find a tree with a knot. At the foot of the tree my brother has left his heart.”
It was as he said. At the foot of the tree was buried a strong box and in the strong box was his brother’s fortune.

On hearing this story, retold by Scheherazade, the Sultan said nothing.
The following day, he sent for the Vizier.
“Go to my brother’s house,” he said, “and bring him this gift.”
He commanded his servants to accompany the Vizier with a strong-box of money.
In this way, it is said, the Sultan was reconciled with his brother after twenty years of silent recrimination.

(Homage to E.A.P.)

The old man shivered in his socks.

“Who’s there?” he said. “Ah, it must be the wind in the chimney. Or a mouse crossing the floor.”

Either that, or the beating of your own hideous heart, old man.
Poe stood silently in the darkness. Although, notionally, he was fond of the old man and had, for years, tolerated his faults, he was seized with an impulse to put him out of his misery.
Without further ado, he brought the lantern down on top of the old man’s head. He turned over the bed and sat down smiling and chuckling to himself. “That did it!” he said. “I stopped it in its tracks, just like a clock.”
Then he took up the planks in the floorboard and deposited the body between the scantlings, taking extra care not to leave a stain.

There was a knock at the front door.
It was two policemen in windbreakers.
“If you are looking for the old man,” Poe said, “he has gone to the country.”
“A neighbour heard a scream.”
“Please, come in,” he said. “By all means, search the house.”
In fact, Poe was so confident he brought them into the old man’s room and had them sit, with a cup of tea, at the very spot where the body lay.
When he heard the sound, it was a low, dull, quick sound, like the sound a watch makes when enveloped in cotton.
The noise steadily increased.
Poe could bear it no more.
“Villains!” he shrieked. “I admit the deed! Tear up the planks!”
The policemen were amazed, but Poe could no longer bear the sound of the old man’s tell-tale heart.