Sing, glorious Mews!, with what studied Ease B-wen swirled the Samnelson's three Times round his Head. Sing, Mews! How, when the Sling slung-out at the wildly braying Masses, the added Impetus lent by the powerful Mammon sped the Tome through the Air with such incredible Speed: seventy-five pages ripped from the Binding. Sing! How, as when Tornado Winds, ripping and howling, some fragile Straw some thick wood Plank drive through: So drove these seventy-five Pages, like the Edges of as many Blades: So were seventy-four Flarbs decapitated. Unfortunately, the seventy-fifth Page decapitated the Mentor. But lo! Half-a-head sprang-up to replace the one that fell.

The Flarbs instantly reverting upon decapitation to Excrement, dismounting was unnecessary. The increased Shrillness of those who remained on the Field compensated any Decrease in Volume occasioned by the Loss of seventy-four-and-a-half Brayers. The shrill Cry flew up to the Heart of Momus, God of Faultfinding. He rushed, though but wrapped in a flimsy Petition, straight to the Side of the Mentor. Shrillest of the Group.

So great was this God's Admiration for the Half-headed Mortal who could bray twice-shrill as an Ass, that he disrobed, exposing a great Fault to the Membership. And circled his flimsy Petition around the Standard. Listed thereon were nine-hundred and eighty-six Demands to be immediately Met by the Wise Teachers, before the Scribbler's Club would Permit re-landscaping of the Lawn, or removal of the dead Flarbs.

The Mentor, seizing back his Standard, and aided by the Force of Momus, hurled it at the unsuspecting B-wen with such savage Impudence that, surely, and despite the Armor of Achilles, it must have cut him in Quarters. But Mammon saw just in the Nick of Time the terrible Danger and, asking the Form of a Blade of tall Grass, interposed himself near the Crest of the Hill. He halted the deadly Missile at B-wen's Feet, suffering a slight Bruise.

Giving the Standard a Boot, B-wen called down at the shrilly braying Masses:

"With a Debate, let us now make an End of this Rebellion." He continued in a firm shriek over the non-stop Brays, "All Issues will be openly discussed! All that is required is that the Loser promise to attend the VOICE of REASON and obey to the Winner without Question."

The Membership signaled Agreement with a concerted Bray of Opprobium. The Mentor, whose Flarb had fallen closest to the Citadel, started the Debate. Half-a-beard suggested while Momus whispered in his Ear:

"Student, Black, Flower Power-Social Conscience-Confrontation-Anti-establishmentarianism-Grasses for the Masses-Suppressive Government-Love Revolution-Freedom of Speech-Make Draft Beer-Ho, ho, ho, you silly old-!"

SMILING Benevolence, born of Disdain, and Pity, the unshaken B-wen made them a conservative Reply:

"Land and Order-the Right to pursue a Course of Study without Interruption-Rational Policy and Responsible Government-Evolution, not Revolution-Aid to Impoverished Areas-Faith, Hope, and Self-determination-Non-violence. God, and the Great American Way!"

The Membership immediately ceased to bray: so struck were they by the mighty. Force of this great Eloquence and inspired Rhetoric. Yet B-wen had spoken without Aid of the shrewd Mammon, who'd been obliged to remove his slightly bruised, though otherwise hardy Nose back to sweeter smelling Olympus, so affected was it by the horrendous Stink now wafting up off the Lawn.

And Henceforth a series of new Time began. The obscure Years ran in quiet Procession. Willing Students, without or without the Crystal of Pallas, knew their Lawful Lords.