From: mlharley@unix1.tcd.ie (Kubik)
Subject: The Wizard's New Home...
Organization: Trinity College, Dublin
Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1992 18:39:01 GMT



			_The Wizard_
Part II
-------

						Mark Harley.



	Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop. It was raining. Even Plif the crow was
feeling miserable. Plop. A heavy drop scattered on his feather. "sneeze"
he said to himself, "sneeze."
	"Oh! Will you be quiet?" Shouted the burly Wizard, who was quite
convinced that only he had the right to be upset about the weather. Plif
made a whining noise. A little like a dog locked outside.
Mestraburdelanius looked at the bird, and said, "Sorry." in gruff tone,
pulling his soaked cloak a little tighter. Plif jumped off the perch, and
hopped along the table to where his master was desperatly flicking through the
pages of a large tome. He jumped onto the wizard's shoulder, Mestraburdelanius
smiled a little smile, that was all but invisible under his shaggy beard.
That rare little smile soon vanished when the bird started nibbling at
his ear. He was very sensitive about his ears, he knew that they were
too big to be decent, "A tad too large,"one of his old freinds would
say, "just a tad, mind you. Do they flap in the wind?" He didn't shout this
time though. He let the crow have it's way, until it whispered something obcene.
"What did you say? Who taught you that? What? Two thousand and sixty two?
Page Two th.. let me see..." Plif deeply regretted that birds couldn't
smile, specially at times like this. "One seven six, one nine, two, two
twenty, thirty, sixty, sixty two. Yes, Two sixty two." The Wizard
mumbled to himself for a while, about birds thinking they know it all,
and that it just wasn't right. Still he had found what he wanted.
	Plop. Plop. Plip-plop. Plop-plop. The rain picked up again, but
the Wizard didn't notice, he had found the spell he needed.
	Within the hour, all of his furniture, books, wands and stools,
cups and plates, and all they rest, were prancing about the room. "Damn
you! Damn you all! Do as I say! One, two, one, two! Come now! line up!
Out the door!" The objects refused to obey his command. The spelL had gone
wrong somewhere... "Damn that Aribold for a fool! Aribold's Magnificent
Formula for Obedient Furniture! My @#!* " Plif mumbled from the rafters
"... Now you know where I get my language ... A-hem. 2 ounces of
butter, three fresh half bannanas, a claw's worth of .."
	A couple of hours later, Plif had moved on from the Exquisite
Banana and Toffee Mush to Prime Plum and Plaice soup, and the tower was
empty. They were on their way. Though Mestraburdelanius couldn't help
wondering why Aribold had not warned that stools were trouble makers,
and given to indecent exposure too. All did seem to be going well.

	It took them two days to reach the caban in the woods, which the
Wizard had decided would do for his new home. The furniture was
exhausted, and they had fallen back into their natural slumber in the
clearing. Mestraburdelanius sighed, and said to the crow on his head, "Yes,
Plif, I think it's time I got myself a knew apprentice. There is no way I'll
be able to get all that stuff inside on my own."
	"I saaaayye, Ssirr. Yurrr Huumbl Houz iz veery Hmblll indeeed."
The crow commented, just as a plank supporting one of the window-frames
clattered to the ground.
	"You know, I hate to say it, crow, but you're right for once."
And with that, half the roof collapsed. The Wizard sighed again, and was
grateful the rain had stopped. He began picking up the skulls an candles
from where they had layed to rest, and putting them in chests, and
boxes, when a voice with a very nasal consonance called to his attention,
"Hey, you. Magician. What z'you up to." Mestraburdelanius swirled
around, robes flapping in a gust of wind, furious that some stranger
should disturb his business. But there was nobody there. His frown softened,
and he turned back to work.
	"Why, what the.. how.. you.. did.. why.. How Dare You!" The
little voice cried. "When I speekz, I likes to be listen'd to. Do you
here me?" Puzzled the Wizard turned around again. There, standing on the
conveniently placed trunk of an uprooted tree, was a little fellow,
about a foot 'n a half tall, all dressed in green, with a hat even more
ridiculous than Garstoupol The Fool's. A little wrinkled hand held a
little ivory pipe to a little wrinkled mouth, that was buried somewhere
in a bushy beard as white as snow. Mestraburdelanius stood there for a
while, his mouth gaping. The visitor's eyes smiled from deep under heavy
eye brows, as he chuckled softly, his cheeks went a joyful red, and his
chuckle became a stiffled laugh.
	The Wizard blinked a couple of times, regaining his senses, he
said, "Oh. A leprechaun." The Leprechaun was still laughing to himself.
"You is a Magicianz izn't you? Me'z Patrick O'Ryan, Pat to freindsez,
but you can call me Paddy." 
	"Oh, well hello Paddy. I'm.. me, My name is Mestraburdelanius."
	"Really? Hi hihi hihihi..." The Leprechaun burst into laughter,
and as tears began to roll down his cheeks, he fell off the tree-trunk
with an earth-shattering thud, and rolled around clutching his sides.
Mestraburdelanius placed his fists on his hips in a very serious manner,
and set his face in a mask of forbiddance. Plif took off, and started
cackling madly. The Leprechaun smiled, catching his breath, "O-ho, ho,
ho-ho! At least, at least your crow has a sense of humor."  "Mmmmm"
pondered the Wizard. The Leprechaun took a deep breath, "And I suppose
he's called something totally crazy like Gonzo, or, or Plif?" He asked,
pointing up at Plif, who, settled in a nearby tree cocked his
head on hearing his name. "Well, as a matter of fact," the Wizard
paused, "well yes, he is. Plif." The little fellow went off into a fit
of side-bursting laughter again, with the crow in chorus. "What's so
funny?" Mestraburdelanius thundered, as he veered toward the colour of
beetroot. "What is so God Damn funny?" The sky rumbled as a passing God
showed his disapproval at having his Title so abused. The Wizard
muttered an apology, and lowered his voice, but the Leprechaun just
laughed louder. "Well? What is it?" Suddenly wee Paddy was going purple,
and coughing his guts into the grass. Mestraburdelanius sneered. "Serves
you right." Wheezing for breath, the Leprechaun lay on his back, and
slowly recovered. "You! You're trying to kill me! I know it!" He gasped.
The Wizard went over to the fallen tree, and picked up Paddy's pipe.
Sniffing at what it contained. "Pineweed." Stated the Leprechaun. "You
don't mind if I just call you Bob do you?"
	"What?! Of course I mind."
	"Oh. Well how about Sarah?"
	"No! I said NO! My name is Mest_"
	"Ok, Ok! Ok. Merlin?"
	"Mmmm. Yes. Ok. I like the sound of that. Merlin."
He helped the Gnom_ Leprechaun up, and handed him back the pipe.
"I'll, I'll just have a look around, ok?" he asked, climbing onto the
table, and opening a book. "Sure, go ahead." the Wizard replied.
	"Welcome to the neighborhood, Magician." The Leprechaun took a
pair of bent spectacles from his waist coat pocket, straightened them,
and placed them on his wrinkled little nose.

--
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mark Harley...	         |  "Truth is, Belief is not required",  Gerry Roston.
mlharley@unix1.tcd.ie    |
(Kubik)		         |  "I am, Belief is not required",                Me. 
Newsgroups: alt.prose