“They’ve been saying that you
went to the mountain while it
was raining!” The first, who was
called Lugubria exclaimed.
“And you saw water flow
downhill!” The second, who
was called Larvae added,
with equal enthusiasm. “That’s
amazing!”
“Can you take us there?”
they asked in unison.
“I suppose,” I said hesitantly. “But the mountain is…
well, it’s right over there. Why
don’t you go yourselves?”
“Maybe if you could just
lead the way?” they asked.
I began to take a few
steps toward the mountain,
and I pointed at it, “it’s right
there,” I repeated. “Just do as I
do and walk this way,” I walked
for about twenty minutes in
peace, but when I turned to
look behind me I saw that the
two slight young women had
not moved from the spot. I returned to them, puzzled.
“We were just waiting
for the right time to start,” they
said. “Is that the mountain, over
there?”
“It is,” I said for the third
time, with growing impatience.
“Just go to that mountain while
it’s raining and you’ll see water
flow downhill. I guarantee!”
They seemed unconvinced.
“I’d like to,” Lugubria said,
“but I’m not sure I have time to
go to the mountain while it’s
raining and see water flowing
downhill.”
“And I,” said Larvae, “think
that it looks too hard.”
“Well,” I tried to be gentlemanly about the thing, “it is
a long journey, yes. The rain is
cold and wet. It isn’t easy, per
se, but it is fairly simple. You
need only keep the mountain
before you and place one foot
in front of the other, and sooner
or later you’ll get there. All that
needs doing then is to wait for
rain, which is bound to come
eventually. Effort is required,
the willingness to tolerate a little hardship, and patience. But
with those three things you’re
certain to see water flowing
downhill.”
“Could you help me?”
asked Larvae.
“How do you mean?” I
was perplexed.
She batted her eyelashes at me, “Well,” she said, pressing a finger to her lips suggestively, “if you would only turn me
toward the mountain, pick up
my left foot, and place it before my right, it would help me
get started.” This struck me as
rather silly, as she seemed perfectly capable of doing this for
herself, but one does try to be
a gentleman. I took firm hold of
her shoulders and turned her
toward the mountain. I then
picked up her left foot and
placed it before her right.
10
“There!” I said, with as
much enthusiasm as I could
muster. “Got the idea?”
“Now,” Larvae said, smiling sweetly, “if you could just
pick up my right foot,
and place it before my left…”
I turned my back on them
both and walked away. As the
two young women
faded into the distance (for all
I know they remain on that spot
to thisque velit et que ad eosanday)
Num square.I approached theI
town
As I got closer,
dam hear voices que venet
could ipsam simolore shouting,
and they istionse autendi gnihit
quatati grew steadily clearer.
When I found that I could make
hicientem. Nectem videlesti voout what they were saying, I was
lores eum by what heard.
astonished volor sitI officientur,
corepel lumqui berum qui ali“Water flows downhill!”
one voice said. “It has come
bus, volorest, suntempe sequas
to pass, as has been written of
suntint.
old, that when rain falleth on
the mountain, whoso seeth it
shall see the water flow downhill!”
“Water truly does flow
Gendi in por renis quae nonse
downhill!” said the second
voice. “Read allgendant est, sum
verum endandi about it right
here!” ipsus aceperum ne pore aliacil
I was astonished. I rushed to the
ae maxim quidebiscit latempo resquare to find two portly young
rovit quid mos vacant smiles
men with broad,doluptatet maio.
distributing pamphlets. quatemos
Volupti del ipiet quas “Brother!” theyintia ea sus. in unison.
greeted me
del et flows downhill!”
“Water
“I know!” I said, slightly
out of breath from running, “so
Pudantium raeribus nim velique
you’ve been to ma dolut faccat
volupta dolupid the mountain
when it was raining? What are
fugitin enis
your names?” que suntiis esera
The first portly young
man, bearded and beaming,
good titles
spoke up. “I am Noncompment,
he said. “And you better believe I’ve been to the mountain
when it was raining.”
“And I am Inflagrantdelict,” announced a bespectacled specimen. “I too have
been to the mountain when it
was raining. Have some of our
literature,” he pushed a pamphlet at me. I read it with considerable interest.
“What’s this,” I asked,
tessit, si tem. Dundant, santur,
“about the Venusian law?”
coreperchil molupta nes law states,”
“The Venusian eiusam
Inflagrantdelict
explained
ea sa ipienis ut experchit ut oditati gravely, quia seque volenim
ute pa “that people residing
in the eastern half of the village
aionsed evendipides. from breaking
are forbidden
bre