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Once upon a time my dear, my very dearest child in all the world, there lived in a Bosky, Dappled Glade a beautious, virtuous woman who reigned Queen of the Sun, and a stalwart, upright, handsome and profoundly learned man who was known as the Genie of Light. They called their palace the Crystal Pavilion and many indeed were the delightful reveries that took place there, all the world making their way to their hospitable door. The remarkable couple spent their days and lives in good works, aiding to the best of their continued abilities and knowledge all the poor and handicapped, all the ame and half, who came to their door imploring succor for the evils that had befallen them in the Outer Darkness of the World at Large, where ruled the Great Dragon of Evil lying curled in a tight, malevolent coil in his malodourous lair at the Centre of Earth Qnorth(?) where neither starlight nor sunlight had hope of ever, ever penetrating. Ah, this creature was sad and lonely, my dearest, knowing as he did no man or woman or wide-eyed child, and reflecting blackly and bleakly and forevermore on his untoward and unaccountable fate. These fulminations caused foul steam and sulfurous emanations to arise from his cave ~~~ which, in a sense, was a fortuitous happenstance since it frightened away those unwary and unhappy creatures who might otherwise, unknowing, have stumbled carelessly into his toils.

But there were also those among the living, who although sensing deeply some exotic and mysterious danger lurking in that plume of evil vapor, nevertheless were haplessly enthralled by the very mystery of it’s dark existence and

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were therefore tempted irresistibly to see and taste, to explore and to feel what this delusive essence might, in fact, be all about. These were those who inevitably singed and burned, cut and broken, by their encounter with the powerful Dragon, and who then made their miserable way to the kindly pair ruling in the Bosky Glade for the healing and help which unquestioningly was always offered them. Indeed, many were the sympathetic tears that bedimmed the eyes of the beautiful Sun-Queen and bedewed the crippled bodies of those unfortunates who presented themselves for merciful treatment (Of course, these bright tears became the warm and beneficent showers that promoted the lush growth of blossoms and flowers and sweet grasses that eternally bedecked the bosky, heavenly glade of that Kingdom of Hope and Light that she and her Consort-Genie shared in their tempered and continual Bliss, gross excess being wisely and sternly outlawed forever in these parts of sunlight and joy. In this manner did they maintain their inspired and tranquil grasp on the Reality of the Good and ward off successfully the harpies and furies of outer-worldly storm and stress. Yes, wise indeed were these rulers of Hope and Light and in kindness and truth did they administer their trust.)

Ah, but one day, One Day, my very dear, an uncommon petitioner presented herself at the threshold of the Crystal Pavilion in the form of a little child who had lost her way chasing the Butterfly of Happiness through the murmuring grasses and singing trees of the Bosky Dale. No trouble had she, nor did she bring any; she was, sweet thing, merely and simply lost. She had never so much as heard of the grandiloquent, fulminating Dragon and probably would not have cared if she had; she was much too preoccupied with her pretty butterfly to bother with ugly old Dragons. She was enchanted with the shining and brilliant aspect of the Crystal Pavilion and paused a long moment in her chase, the butterfly flickering away instantly, to gaze bemusedly at this dazzlingly bright and silvery fairy palace that stood shining in the sun. Timidly, but at the same time with

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