THE CURIOUS Beast might have been a Chimera, Except that the Head and skinny Neck, and great, drooping Tail of a Cock, were affixed to the Body of an Ass. Flopping at either Flank was a huge, Sludge-colored Wing, from the Tip of each of which grew a small Talon, causing great Mystery. Each hoof was a giant Talon grappling the Floor.

The Colony was dismayed when the small Head brayed full-loud as an Ass. Then painfully shocked when the Flarb, as by instinct, cut and viciously slashed at those standing in its Perimeter. Once cut of its Perimeter the Colony heatedly debated a Question of great Moment: Where would they sell a furred and feathered Ass which cut and viciously slashed at those standing in its Perimeter?

While they argued, the redoubtable Creature dropped a large Egg to the Floor, from which sprang yet another full-grown Flarb. Debate doubled. The Flarbs increasing with the Argument, an Attempt was made to move them from the crowded Station to Pasture. They loudly protested. One of them ripped a County Fair Poster from the hands of an unwary Bystander with a talloned Wing-tip and flapped it wildly on high. The Mystery of the tiny Talon was solved. The Colony was scraped from the Experimental Station into the Farmyard.

The Flarbs could not be budged from the occupied Building, though all Members of the Colony were experienced Shepherds. Our Mentor, coincidentally, had happened upon the scene at this critical Point, searching a part-time Job. He succeeded, using a Danny-the-Red Button tied to a Stick, in leading the Flarbs unprotesting out to Pasture, and was hired at once for their Shepherd.

In this Capacity, the Mentor, now leading another Flock across the Fields to the Stable of Farmer Diskord, became first acquainted with the perverse Pegesi upon which the Scribbler's Club was to fly in an avenging Horde against the Domed Citadel.

By the Return to the Base of Campus Hill the Flarbs were completely tamed. Unmistakable Signs of Love, blind Devotion and unflagging Constancy had so impressed them, that they could now be trusted not to inflict a single Cut, or Slash, while the Riders voted to begin their awful Charge. Indeed, when the Membership dismounted, wingy Talons flapped out to eagerly clutch the sticks to which they'd nailed their gawdy Posters. A joyful Cry went up on revelation of this new Feature of Convenience. The Vote was considered taken. They remounted for the Assault.

The Mentor flapped and scraped around to the Front at full Slash. He silenced the Group by raising his Standard: a two-ended Sword with a Handle at the Middle.

"Remember," he thundered, with a shake of the Standard, "they're wrong! who cry that what seventy-four do here Today is: senseless Destruction, unnecessary Violence, pernicious Nihilism! The TRUTH of the Matter [ Fault in MS. ]

Loud Roars of Opprobrium concluded the Mentor's Speech. Turning to face up at the Citadel, he lowered his Standard to begin the Wingy Charge.

With O what a monstrous Uproar! did seventy-four Flarbs rip and tear, cut, slash, gouge and madly flap their Way up the Hill. Grating with the loud Rustle of eighty-six fiercely shaking, Bile-colored Posters were the shrill Brayings of one-hundred-forty-eight Asses, somewhat flat in Tone, without surrounding Hills to echo and re-echo their challenging Call! Hurling great Clumps of slimy Muck before them and behind them and to their Left and to their Right they gashed beyond all immediate Repair the once neatly trimmed Lawn and closed withunimaginable Petulance and noisy Spite on the front Steps in a Braying Horde! Victory seemed but a Scrape away!

Suddenly, B-wen! Champion of the Wise Teachers, strode onto the stony front Porch of the Citadel, protected by a gleaming Suit of Armor. Blazing in large gold Letters from the great Shield slung across his shoulders was the Motto: "Self Interest is Best for the Common Interest in a Free Economy."

Perhaps the Interest was Common, but this could not be said of the Armor he wore! First handed by the Warrior Achilles-in deference to a Christian Character, Pagan Emblems removed-to Reagan the Pure of the Western Coast; it had passed thence to Hayakawa, the Bold. Now, triple tempted and tested on the Forges at Berkeley, it had descended to B-wen, the Righteous!

In his left Hand was a Crocodile-bound Edition of Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations. Dropping from his Right was a golden Sling, in whose Pouch rested a Bronze-studded, Morocco-bound Copy of Samuelson's Economics. Gazing down with Compassion at the charging, wildly braying, thundering Hordes, a Talon grazed near!

"Thus long!" wailed the compassionate B-wen, "thus long have I, by native Mercy swayed, my Wrongs dissembled, my Revenge delayed!"

xMAMMON, God of Riches, following Dryden's Eye and sighting the bright gold Lettering of the Shield, rushed as if called by a Secret Code to the Side of the Righteous B-wen.