This particular fable of the relationships between human beings is more opaque and somber in tone than last year's enchanting Man and Boy. The inability of men to communicate, to ameliorate their certain loneliness, is a central theme, and Mr. Morris has built his lonely ones with such an air of timid decency, of minute meekness, that their isolation is ironically amusing and sadly human. Will Brady, the protagonist, is a wistful fledgling under glass. Twice married, foster father of a son he did not sire, prosperous owner of a chicken business, builder of a home, he yet seemed unsurprised when everything vanished in dream-like sequence. Only in the unreal world of moonlight did there seem real relationships. He found his niche, his role at the close of life, as a department store Santa Claus, where he could be in the world and yet out of it, mortal and immortal at the same time. Haunting and wryly melancholic, but with that recognizable Wright Morris quality, this will appeal chiefly to his special audience, and find no market among those seeking entertainment.