If Wishes Were Horses, Beggars Would Ride.

Sheep Are Not The Docile, Pleasant Creatures Of The Pastoral Idyll. Any Countryman Will Tell You That. They Are Sly, Occasionally Vicious, Pathologically Stupid. The Lenient Shepherd May Find His Flock Unruly, Definant. I Cannot Afford To Be Lenient.

And So Nat Stood Up And Joined The Group, And Followed, And Watched, And Awaited His Chance As The Light Of Chaos Lit The Plain And Gods And Demons Marched To War.

Nat Parson Says It's The Devil's Mark." "nat Parson's A Gobshite." Maddy Was Torn Between A Natural Feeling Of Sacrilege And A Deep Admiration Of Anyone Who Dared Call A Parson 'gobshite.

As Authors, We All Expect Criticism From Time To Time, And We All Have Our Ways Of Coping With Unfriendly Reviews.

In Any Case, Fire Burns; That's Its Nature, And You Can't Expect To Change That. You Can Use It To Cook Your Meat Or To Burn Down Your Neighbor's House. And Is The Fire You Use For Cooking Any Different From The One You Use For Burning? And Does That Mean You Should Eat Your Supper Raw?" Maddy Shook Her Head, Still Puzzled. "so What You're Saying Is . . . I Shouldn't Play With Fire," She Said At Last. Of Course You Should," Said One-eye Gently. "but Don't Be Surprised If The Fire Plays Back.