From: braley@binkley.cs.mcgill.ca (The Didi-Sprite)
Subject: Song of Sixpence - Part Six
Originator: braley@binkley.cs.mcgill.ca
Organization: SOCS - Mcgill University, Montreal, Canada
Date: Fri, 2 Oct 1992 19:40:06 GMT


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Castellan manages to find an opening in the crowd of people offering hugs
and congratulations.  "We haven't talked much, but I just wanted to say
I've always been very impressed with your contributions to the Place.  Your
posts always seem to strike a chord somewhere.  Keep writing, and may peace
dwell within you."  He offers Liralen a hug, and unwraps the bundle he was
carrying to reveal a plate of hot Yankee cornbread. 

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Susan manages, with some help from Bear, to find a hole in the crowd 
and approaches Liralen:

Dearheart, for your birthday, I have a small gift....

She rummages around in her mammoth bag and pulls out a card
and a bag of Hershey's Kisses which she hands to Liralen and then gives
her a hug...

Happy Birthday!
                                                    -- Susan  Gavula --

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   In the midst of the celebration amongst the tents, the 
fun and revelry pause as a brisk wind and a few stray leaves
usher in a figure cloaked in blue.  Of course, the good folk from 
Callahan's (being used to this kind of dramatic entry), patiently 
wait for the visitor to introduce him/herself.
   
   The figure reaches to unclasp the cloak and with a flourish, reveals...
Nathan.  Most of the prople quickly go back to their business (one or two
with a muttered, "Gee, I thought it was going to be somebody...different"
or  "Who the heck is that?").  But from those who know him he gets a
different reaction.

"Nathan!" Squeals the Didi-Sprite, flying over to give him a hug.

   "Hi Didi, sorry I'm late.  I meant to come here earlier, but...well,
it's Tourny season in Ansteorra...er, Texas.  I've come straight from
getting ready for an Event."  Nathan gestures to his clothes.  " I
normally don't wear a tunic and tights when I go out to a party.
   
   "So where is the birthday girl?"
   
   "The party is over this a way."  Didi, in sprite size, leads him
through the mass of people to the party.
   
   "Nathan, this is Liralen."
   
   Going up to the lady (who is surrounded by _neat_ stuff), Nathan
goes down on one knee, and gently kisses her hand.
   
   "Lady, though I did not know you until just now, it is an honor to be
here and share in the celebration of your birth.  If you will permit me,
I have a small gift, I would like to bestow upon you."  At a nod from
Liralen, Nathan takes from his pouch a length of material.
   
   "Lady, this belt was woven by my hand. The threads of the warp are out
of dreams and memories, the weft the light of the sun, stars and moon.
Please accept this gift with my well wishes."
   
   Standing up, he looks about for this cloak. He casts it about his
shoulders makes for the lane, giving hugs along the way.  He would
love to stay, but he really must go home and pack for his camping trip.
He needs to do laundry, find his tent, buy food....

Nathan.

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Abner strides over to Liralen, and smiles.  "I have a pair of gifts for you.
The first reflects me ...  I'm working with buckyballs, and I've been told you
play soccer, so here is a giant buckeyball ...  care to play a game later?

The second gift is a different form of carbon ... a diamond ... it has one
facet for each of yours; each is a different color.  Facets will appear and
disappear when your's do - and like you, the diamond is beautiful no matter
how many facets it has ..."

Abner gives Liralen a hug, and asks her not to leave again.

"Oh, and BTW, did I mention that my family has some blueberry hedges?  Here,
have some fresh blueberries ..."

"Oops, that makes three gifts!  Am I allowed to do that?"

*grin*

                                                     --  Abner Mintz --

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	Wandering across the meadow, wearing a flowing black cape over
black shirt, black trousers and - you guessed it - black boots, we
find Martyr. His arms are hidden behind his back and it looks as if
he's trying to hide something. And, indeed, there is a scrumptious
smell emanating from somewhere... Whatever can it be?

	Approaching the gathering throng in the meadow, he edges around
until he manages to find enough space to execute a polite little bow
and perhaps even a bijou flourish-ette as he produces...

	A pie.

	Not any kind of pie - a very special pie. It's a BLACKberry
pie. (Appropriate, huh?)  A fresh blackberry pie made with fresh
blackberries (as opposed to a fresh cottage pie made with fresh
cottages or a fresh shepherds pie made with fresh shepherds). In fact,
the very kind of blackberry pie that his grandmother used to make. It's
come straight from the oven, fresh, piping hot and with a beautiful
golden shortcrust that melts when you eat it, while torrents of hot
blackberry juice inevitably find their way onto your shirt and promise
washday havoc to come.

	Presenting this particular culinary delight, Martyr speaks...

	"I heard that there might be a little party here for someone
and I was asked to bring something seasonal. I'm afraid that this is
about the best I can manage in the seasonal department. When I was a
kid, I would sometimes go picking blackberries with my grandmother (on
my mother's side that is). She made the most wonderful blackberry pie.
I couldn't think of anything to bring until I remembered seeing some
blackberry bushes the other day with nice, juicy, ripe blackberries on
them. So I figured I might as well re-create one of those pies..."

	"Jeez, I'm rambling. I don't know what's wrong with me lately,
must be lack of sleep and excess of writing - about 21,000 words in the
last fourteen days."

	"What I'm trying to say is...

			HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LIRALEN!!!"

	"Hope you have a good one..."

	"Anyway, must dash - still got more to do!"

	And with that, Martyr fades from sight, leaving the pie
hovering somewhat ridiculously in mid-air until someone remembers to
grab a hold of it and put it down somewhere.

	Meanwhile, in a small room separated from the meadow by the
mere breadth of reality, a figure sits at a computer, surrounded by
piles of books and stacks of papers, typing furiously while Jethro
Tull's "Catfish Rising" blasts out around him...

                                        -- Adrian (Martyr) Waterworth --

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After helping out as various patrons get organized and the festivities
get underway, Albert goes over to Liralen and offers a birthday hug.
"A very Happy Birthday, Liralen!  Nice to have you in The Place again."

							-- Albert

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Raven is perched in a tree overlooking a sparkling river.  "Hmmm, what to
bring, what to bring...."  She looks down and notice that the salmon are
running.  An idea stricks, and she calls down  'Brothers would you mind
shedding this skin so i may use it?' The answer to which is a few sockeye
leaping onto the surrounding rocks, their flesh without a blemish.  She
then swoops over to a meadow in which a very small house is located.
Stopping in front of the kitchen window she looks in the merry little
being.  "Sister would you prepare a few dishes for me please" to which
there is a positive reply.

A little while later, Raven swoops onto the festive field to join in the
merriment.  Behind her there comes a picnic table on wheels that is
pulled by a goat on which is perched the female tomte.  The goat stops,
the tomte unhiches it, and then they go crashing back into the woods.  On
the table are barbequed salmon, a large mushroom pie,  and some blueberry
perogies. 

"Well, i hope there's something for everyone here, especially Liralen."

"Happy Birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you,
Happy Birthday Dear Liralen
Happy Birthday to youuuuuuu."

"Now i know this going to sound like a card, i hope that this upcoming
year is filled with joy, and that Seattle isn't too wet this winter."

                                                --  Raven  --

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The Didi-Sprite
Montreal * Canada

braley@binkley.cs.mcgill.ca

Newsgroups: alt.callahans