I had no particular woman in my mind; certainly never intended to personify wisdom, philosophy, or any other abstraction; and the orb, raying colour out of whiteness, was altogether a fancy of my own.

Beautimus strolled to the river for her morning bath. She looked one direction, then the other to search the landscape for anything or anybody who might offer a clue as to what could be coming her way. She passed a pond where a congregation of alligators and a wisdom of wombats engaged in a heated argument over economics. Nothing unusual in that.

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The barr, the Beam, branch, advancers […] of a Deers head