to the piano and
struck several discordant notes.

"I understand there are several parties making expeditions onto the
Grass," I said.

"Lots," confirmed Joe. "There's a group sent out by Brother Paul on some
very mysterious mission. It's called the Sanctification of the
Forerunner. God knows how many thousands he's made his suckers cough up,
for theyre equipped with all the latest gadgets for polar exploration,
skis and dogsleds, moompitcher cameras, radios and unheardof quantities
of your very best pemmican. They started as soon as the snow was thick
enough to bear their weight and if we have an untimely thaw theyll go to
join the Russians.

"Then there's the government bunch, the Disruptions Commission having
finally and reluctantly produced an idea, but exactly what it is they
havent confided to an eager citizenry. Smaller groups too: scientists
and nearscientists, enthusiasts who have got the notion somehow that
animals or migratory game are roaming the snow on top of the
grass--exactly how they got there is not explained--planning to
photograph, hunt or trap; and just plain folk making the trip for the
hell of it. We might have gone ourselves if it hadnt been for the
symphony."

"Your symphony is concerned with the Grass?" I asked politely.

"It's concerned with combinations of sound." He looked at me sharply and
banged out harsher discords. "With life, if you want to talk like a
programnote."

"If you go on this expedition it will give you an opportunity to gather
new material," I pointed out.

"If I look out the window or consult my navel or 'meditate while at
stool' or cut my finger I will get new material with much less hardship.
The last thing a composer or writer or painter needs is material; it is
from excess of material he is the besotted creature he is. He may lack
leisure or energy or ability or an active colon, but no masterpiece ever
was or conceivably could be thwarted from lack of material."

"Yet you have tied yourself to the Grass."

"Not to prostitute it to whatever talents I have, but because it is the
most magnificent thing on earth."

"Then of course youll go," I said.

"Why don't you go yourself, A W? Do you good to live out in the open."

"I can't afford the time, Joe; I have too many things that need my
personal attention."

He struck a series of great thumping notes. "And so have I, A W, so have
I. I'm afraid youll have to get somebody else."

I could neither understand