a snob. "What sort of advice can a mere journalist
give me," I thought, "that I could not give myself?" So, more for
amusement than anything else, I determined to consult a native
practitioner. "After all," I said to myself, "a good laugh is a
step forward on the road to recovery."_

_Accordingly, I went to see this native fellow. They work entirely
without machines, I understand, using something like witchcraft. At
the same time, I thought I might pick up some material for a jolly
little book on primitive customs which I could get some unknown
writer to throw together inexpensively. Strong human interest items
like that always have great reader-appeal._

_The native chap--doctor, he calls himself--was most cordial,
which he should have been at the price I was paying him. One thing
I must say about these natives--backward they may be, but they have
a very shrewd commercial sense. You can't even imagine the trouble
I had getting those authors to sign even remotely reasonable
contracts ... which in part accounts for my mental disturbance,
I suppose._

_Well, anyway, I handed the native a privacy waiver carefully
filled out in Terran. He took it, smiled and said, "We'll discuss
this afterward. My contact lenses have disappeared; I suppose one
of my patients has stolen them again. Can't see a thing without
them."_

_So we sat down and had a bit of a chat. He seemed remarkably
intelligent for a native; never interrupted me once._

_"You are definitely in great trouble," he told me when I'd
finished. "You need to be psycho-analyzed."_

_"Good, good," I said. "I see I've come to the right shop."_

_"Now just lie down and make yourself comfortable."_

_"Lie down?" I repeated, puzzled. I have an excellent command of
Terran, but every now and then an idiom will throw me. "I tell the
truth, sir, and when I am required by force of circumstances to
lie, I lie up."_

_"No," he said, "not that kind of lying. You know, the kind you do
at night when you go to sleep."_

_"Oh, I get you," I said idiomatically. Without further ado, I
flung off my ulster and flew up to a thingummy hanging from the
ceiling--chandelier, I believe, is the native term--flipped upside
down, and hung from it by my toes. Wasn't the Presidential Perch,
by any m