Julius Katz Draws a Straight Flush

At nine-thirty a.m. Julius finished a light breakfast consisting of a scone with strawberry jam, and by nine forty-five he was sitting behind his desk, taking the last few sips of his cup of freshly brewed coffee while perusing a recently bought book about French cheeses. I waited ten minutes before saying, “Interestingly enough, I’ve catalogued over sixteen hundred varieties of cheeses made in France.” Julius, who at that moment was reading about a particularly gooey cheese called Mont d’Or, ignored me. I wasn’t pestering him for sport, but with a purpose, so I continued, saying, “Your book makes the