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.

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.

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

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