(See Cover) He was not what anybody would call an old man. His hair was grey, but it was far from white; his face was lined but not wrinkled. He looked down at his strong, freckled hands:
"I don't know what to do with myself these days." he said. "I'm supposed to be oldI was 65 last fallbut God knows I don't feel old. The company is right about the retirement age, I suppose; it has to make places for younger men. But what happens to us?"
He was sitting on the porch of...
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