Once a year in the full of the moon, according to Rudyard Kipling's Jungle Book, the amiable wolves of India gather in packs to pass judgment on the year's crop of cubs. Forth from their lairs and into the shadow of the great Council Rock the she-wolves nuzzle their young. If the cub is judged fit to run with the pack, all is well. If not, the she-wolf and her cubs henceforth hunt alone. And according to Rudyard Kipling that is poor hunting indeed. Last week in Manhattan, like the mother-wolves of India, the...
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