Sidney Freedman, ever the clear- and level-headed model of human reasoning, was wrong on one point. He was correct in his deduction that Radar's upset was caused chiefly by his close and warm emotions toward the recently- transformed Henry Blake. He was correct that it would be best for him to accommodate him for now, to be there when he needed to talk, but, most importantly, for him to try to make the two talk to one another in person. He had noticed that Radar had hardly said two words in the examination room, and that Henry seemed to want to address him, but seemed unsure of how to start, or what to say.

So where, you might as, was Sidney mistaken? Only in his assertion that Radar's glasses had no legs. Whether or not his comment that the glasses couldn't be far off was correct or not depends entirely on whether or not you consider around the side wall outside Radar's office to be 'far off' or not.

Yes, Radar's glasses do have legs. It used them, in the confusion of the mess and during Radar's interchange with Sidney, to scamper out the door. The legs are four in number and green in hue. The little winged, beaked lizard-bird chirruped quietly to its companion as it turned the corner.

"What ho! By troth, I hail ye, Bantlehopp!" greeted the AWOL bear, rising into a little crouch from its curled position in a little packed circle of earth and crumpled yellow weed. It batted at the air with a paw in greeting as the tiny dragon approached.

"And I you, tender Qotenmatch! In our

Now so accustomed spot I've come to meet

With ye and to discuss what now we must." Bantlehopp replied.

Qot: What now we must, I think I know, my friend,

But lest I am mistook, do say what weight

There is upon thy soul.

Ban: You have it right;

I see that clear; yet takest now I the leave

To speak my heart and have my tremors known:

I fear that Corpse which worries our young ward!



Qot: And so I thought, and so it is; a fright

Indeed, what's fallen on poor Henry Blake.

Ripped from day's bright light when just

The rays began to fall from straight on high.

Yea, noon had just now cleared the shadows right

Or left of that man's path, when into night

He fell, unwary.

Ban: O! A fright? 'Poor Henry Blake,'

Sayst thou? A fright indeed, and to a fright

Does any one unaddled in his brains not turn

A wary face? Or shall you tell me now

He ought to stay a while and nurse a fiend

As if a child foundling in the woods?!

Qot: Dear Bantelhopp-- but stay! There comes a man!

The two chimerae tucked themselves in the dark shadow to the side of Radar's office, peeking out quietly to the laden figure who trundled across the compound. Turning their little faces to one another, they puckered their faces in consternation.

Qot: See, friend? Why shouldst thou place more blame

On our young Radar's friend, so much beloved,

For what has come to him by chance alone,

Than on that Burns who prowls the camp at night

With more design, and on a fouler hunt

For his intention by't? What would you have?

Ban: Why, that we wake him!

Qot: Thus, in troth, I thought;

But would you have him dead? What of Man Burns?

My whole inside's in oils at his passing!

You move your mouth; I know you mean to say

That Dead Man Henry makes a keener threat.

And that to wake our ward will keep him safe.

Fair Iowa, I'd thought, we had decided as the place,

And once the war's out of his mind, the time,

For such a move.

Ban: You argue points, but mine,

My friend, not yours. Speak clear. By troth, you seem

Aheld of 'pinion vastly off from mine.

I say, indeed, to wake him, let him see,

And show him to protect himself as we

Cannot. To my speech said, say what you shall.

Qot: A simple speech you ask; that shall I give.

I find That Burns a greater risk to him awake

Than Blake to him asleep. Your 'Corpse' is not

Yet dead, some life yet lingers in him still,

Life, and if not life, then love, at least,

Mayhaps of greater import. Burns has got

Not the least of these two, whichsoever

You choose to be the conquered of the match.

And 'tis a sour thing.

Ban: Sweet Qotenmatch,

Your words are well with me, but I will nay

Be moved from my desired end. I am

Convince'd that to wake him's right, and I

Am just as much his guardian as thou;

My vote shan't be ignored. But nay shall thine:

Know with me, the Cutters Hunnicutt

And Pierce, goodfellows both, in both our books,

Will keep our young ward safe from all you fear,

While he will then afford himself the safety

Which I desire for him -- from Blake, I mean.

Qot: Tis true, we must have shares in our ward's life.

These words of yours find purchase in my heart.

But hark! He needs us now, tonight. Let's go

To him, and when we've thought it out complete,

Our plan we'll put in place. Come, Bantelhopp!

Ban: I come.

~