ed what it was.

His world was like this, too. It had the trees, the birds, the wind
and the colors. All were there. But its people had long since ceased
to appreciate them. Their existence had turned inward and the external
things no longer were of interest. Yet the visitor, through George's
eyes, found this world delightful. He reveled in its beauty, its
breathtaking panorama and its balance. And he wondered if he was able
to appreciate it for the first time now because he was being active,
although in a vicarious way, and participating in life, instead of
merely reflecting on it. This would be a clue to have analyzed by the
greater minds to which he would report.

Then, with a wrench, the visitor chided himself. He was allowing
himself to identify too closely with this mortal, with his
appreciation of such diverse pursuits as jazz and fishing. He had to
get on. There was work to be done.

George waved to a boy playing in a field and the boy waved back. With
the contact of their eyes, the visitor was inside the boy's mind.

* * * * *

The boy had a dog. It was a great, lumbering mass of affection, a
shaggy, loving, prankish beast. A protector and a playmate, strong and
gentle.

Now that the visitor was in the boy's mind, he adored the animal, and
the dog worshiped him.

He fought to be rational. "Come now," he told himself, "don't get
carried away." He attempted control. A simple thing. He would have the
boy pull the dog's ear, gently. He concentrated, suggested. But all
his efforts were thwarted. The boy leaped at the dog, grabbed it
around the middle. The dog responded, prancing free.

The visitor gave up. He relaxed.

Great waves of mute, suffocating love enveloped him. He swam for a few
minutes in a pool of joy as the boy and dog wrestled, rolled over each
other in the tall grass, charged ferociously with teeth bared and
growls issuing from both throats, finally to subside panting and
laughing on the ground while the clouds swept majestically overhead
across the blue sky.

He could swear the dog was laughing, too.

As they lay there, exhausted for the moment, a young woman came upon
them. The visitor saw her looking down at them, the soft breeze
tugging at her dark hair and skirt. Her hands were thrust into the
pockets of her jacket. She was barefoot and she wriggled her toes so
that blades of grass came up between them.

"Hello, Jimmy," she said. "Hello, Max, you old